


Fight So Dirty (but your love's so sweet)

by SomeKindofUnicorn



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Exes to Lovers, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Future Fic, Genre Savvy Louis, Getting Back Together, I guess there's like some past zouis subtext, M/M, Mutual Pining, OT5 Friendship, POV Harry, There exists a universe in which this could happen anyway, There's sex in this but I wouldn't say it's sexy, i guess, industry homophobia mentions, minor internalised homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-17
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:40:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22294198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomeKindofUnicorn/pseuds/SomeKindofUnicorn
Summary: “This is all fake, right?” Says Harry, “It was all for the paps. For management.”Harry can see Louis’ walls going back up.“But sometimes it feels like more than that.” Harry says, “But Louis, we can’t just slip into this. This can’t be some casual thing to me. We’ve got too much history.”Or: There’s a One Direction reunion on the cards, and Harry and Louis are fake dating for promo reasons. Featuring parties, picnics, pining and painful misunderstandings. Yeah, this fanfic has been written before- but this time there’s a twist.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 9
Kudos: 161





	Fight So Dirty (but your love's so sweet)

**Author's Note:**

> I don't really know what to say about this, except a few years ago I fell head first into Larry Stylinson (and became a bit of a Louis Tomlinson fangirl along the way) and this is the result of that. I'm a sucker for sad, pining boys, what can I say? 
> 
> There's a bit of a twist to this fic which I don't want to put here/ in the summary, but it's in the end notes if you don't want to be surprised. 
> 
> It took me a long time to work up to posting this- and it's Un Beta'd and probably full of mistakes so sorry about that! 
> 
> Title is from 5SOS's Teeth.

Walking through these offices is strange for Harry. They’ve changed, since he’s last been here. A new coat of white paint on the walls. Some fresh potted plants in the hallways. Different artist photos on the walls. Most of the faces behind the desks aren’t ones he recognises. But he still knows his way around, and he still feels the same old shiver of anxiety at being called here.

A few months ago, Niall, Louis and Liam had come to him with an idea. A one-off reunion tour for the fans. Just a few venues, but something to show they still appreciate where they came from. It hadn’t really taken much to get Harry to agree. He’d had enough time away from the old days to view them with a kind of nostalgia now. Besides, the boys had reassured him, everything would be on their terms now.

Of course, that wasn’t quite how things had worked out. There were a lot of people still who had a say in how things were done. Management were happy about the tour, after all, they could use it to make money. But that wasn’t always in the best interest of the boys and the fans. Eventually, they’d reached a sort of compromise, where the concert, ticket sales and meet and greets would all be done how the band wanted. However, the boys had to agree to whatever promotion management wanted them to do.

It’s not ideal, and Harry knows he’s going to be asked to do things he doesn’t like. Being called into the offices alone used to be a common management tactic. Divide and conquer. Isolate the boys and pressure them into agreeing to things. Harry’s older now, better able to stand his ground. Even so, there’s still a familiar knot of anxiety in his stomach as he walks into the meeting room.

They don’t waste much time on pleasantries.

“We want you in a high-profile relationship.” Says one of the ladies. Hannah, Harry thinks her name is, or maybe Emma.

“Uh-huh.” Says Harry. He pretty much knew this was coming.

“But with a twist,” She says.

“Um.” Says Harry, frowning.

“You know there was a lot of speculation about you back in the day.” She continues.

“I’m aware, yes.” Says Harry.

“So, we thought it might be… you know… it is 2020 after all…” Hannah continues, “What better way to get a buzz around the concert than to have you in a relationship with another man?”

Harry blinks at her. The world certainly has moved on from when he was in a room just like this one being told he was too camp, being told he needed to be seen as attractive to girls, to play a role that meant he could barely recognise himself. And worse, being told to tone things down with Louis, until they were barely allowed to look at each other or be seen together.

“Did you have someone in mind?” Says Harry, as calmly as he can manage.

“Well,” She smiles, “We’ve already spoken to Louis about this, and we sort of thought, you and him. He’s up for it, by the way.”

_Um… What?_

Harry isn’t ready for this. He’s so far from being ready for this he thinks he might actually be having a heart attack. His whole chest feels paralysed, like someone’s tied a knot in his internal organs. He’s actually struggling to breath. He takes a few seconds, grounds himself, sips some water.

“Louis.” He says, slowly, stumbling over his words, “After everything… you want me to be seen to be dating Louis Tomlinson.”

“Um.” Says the girl, “Well… you can’t say it wouldn’t get attention. And it would allow you to come out in a way that would keep at least some of your fan base on side.”

Coming out had been part of the deal they’d presented to management. Again, management had insisted it would be on their terms. Harry has never wanted anyone else to own his narrative, so he hasn’t pushed towards actually coming out yet.

“Louis is up for this?” Harry asks. He can’t really believe a scenario where that would be the case.

“Yeah.” Says Hannah, nodding, “I mean, he took a little bit of persuading but… look, he’s in another meeting room right now, so why don’t I take you along to see him? You two can talk about it and let me know what you decide.”

“Louis is here?” Harry is pretty sure he sounds like an idiot, just repeating everything she’s saying.

“Yeah,” She repeats, with a grin, “Come on!”

Harry hasn’t seen Louis in months. They don’t hang out, and they avoid going to the same industry events. Harry puts a lot of effort into making sure they don’t cross paths. He’s pretty sure Louis does too. Very occasionally, they message. More, admittedly, in recent weeks, when this idea was getting put together. But they haven’t spoken properly in a very long time.

Well, apart from one drunk conversation, from around the time Louis’ album had come out.

_They’re about me, aren’t they?_

**_What are?_ **

_Your songs_

**_What gave it away? The princess park bit or the bit where you’re the only person I ever loved._ **

_Are we ever going to talk about this?_

**_You said you could never get over what happened._ **

_I was an idiot. Can we talk?_

**_I don’t know if that would be a good idea._ **

_Louis._

_Louis, please._

_Louis, I miss you._

**_I miss you too_ **

_Well then. I’m in London next week._

**_I don’t think I can put myself through it again_ **

**_I’m sorry_ **

**_I love you_ **

**_But we can’t make it work_ **

**_You should find someone else_ **

_Have you moved on? Is that it?_

**_Doubt I ever will_ **

_Then let’s talk_

_Please_

_Louis…_

He hadn’t heard from Louis for months after that, but Harry still keeps the texts. He looks at them whenever he wants to torture himself.

He goes into the meeting room quickly, pushing the door open before he can find a reason to duck out of this. Louis is there, lounging across a chair, wearing a designer tracksuit, looking fitter than he has any right to. His hair’s a little bit messy, and there’s some stubble along his jaw. He looks up at Harry and smiles. He still has the most radiant smile. It lights up his whole face. Harry can’t help but smile back.

“Alright, lad?” Asks Louis, “How was your flight in?”

Harry stares at him. He’s still stunned by the idea that Louis is here, in the same room as him, after all this time. They’re alone, together. Harry’s not ready for this. He’s certainly not ready to make polite small talk.

Harry takes a deep breath, “This idea that management have…”

“Mental, innit?” Says Louis, laughing, “All those years they made us keep shit a secret, and now…”

It’s a bit more complicated than that, Harry thinks. Yeah, management hadn’t been thrilled about their relationship at first, but over time, they’d come to accept it. If Harry and Louis had pushed to come out, then they might have been able to make it work. But first Harry hadn’t wanted to, and then Louis hadn’t, and then everything had been too rocky, and they hadn’t wanted a public break up, and…

But if that’s the line Louis wants to take, Harry isn’t going to make it awkward, “Yeah. Mental.”

“So, what do you think?” Asks Louis, “I know it’s kind of crazy, but you want to be out, right? I mean, you practically are out, as like, pan or whatever so, like…”

Louis trails off, and Harry doesn’t know what to say.

“I think it’s weird.” He replies, finally, just as the silence was starting to become awkward.

“Yeah,” Says Louis, laughing.

“How do you feel about it?” Asks Harry, “I mean really? Being out and stuff?”

Louis shrugs, “Times change, the world moves on, you know what I mean? And everything that’s happened, I don’t want to spend my whole life living a lie.”

“What would you come out as?” Asks Harry, “Bisexual?”

Suddenly, Louis looks a bit more serious, “I kind of want to come out as gay. But…”

Wow. Harry was not expecting that.

“Well, sure.” Says Harry, “If that’s what you want to do?”

Louis gives him a nod, small and nervous, “I think I want to do it, either way.”

“Wow, Lou, that’s really brave.” Says Harry.

Louis gives Harry half a smile. It feels more real than anything he’s shown Harry so far.

“So, what about this mad plan of theirs?” Asks Louis, “Do you think we can make it work?”

“Won’t it be weird?” Asks Harry.

“No weirder than all the other shit they’ve made us do.” Says Louis, with a shrug, “How about we keep it low key to start off with? See how it goes? Keep up the plausible deniability until we’re sure, if you know what I mean?”

Harry wonders what Louis isn’t saying. Have they made this a condition of his coming out? Or is the alternative they’re suggesting that much worse? There’s definitely something that he’s holding back. Harry knows Louis, even after all this time. He knows when he isn’t being told the whole truth.

“We’d have to spend time together.” Harry says.

Something flickers across Louis’ face, but he hides it quickly, “Would that be so bad?”

“Um…” Harry feels off balance, wrong footed. Is Louis so far over him that none of this is really bothering him anymore?

“If you don’t want to, it’s fine.” Says Louis, “I get it. It is a bit fucked up. Properly fucked up, really. I get it.”

He runs a hand through his hair and looks towards the door.

Harry sort of wants to shake him, to ask him what’s really going on. Louis is hiding something, Harry’s sure of it, but he also seems too calm about the whole situation. They’ve barely seen each other for years. And now, they’re going to have to spend a lot of time together, just the two of them. Harry’s got butterflies in his stomach at the thought of that, the whole works. Louis is just sitting there, acting as if them hanging out would be totally fine.

Maybe it is for him. Maybe he just doesn’t care like Harry does.

If Harry starts thinking like that, he’ll get upset, so he pushes the thought out of his mind and pours himself a glass of water.

“It’s just,” Louis continues, fiddling with the cuff of his jacket, “If we don’t give them this, they’ll put Liam or Niall through something worse, you know what I mean? I thought us hanging out a bit, how bad can that be?”

“It’s only a few shows.” Says Harry, with a pout, “Why do they care so much?”

Louis shrugs, “They wanna build up hype. They don’t wanna do this and have us not sell out, or whatever. So they’re gonna build it up, like.”

Harry nods.

Louis frowns, “If you need some time to think about it, that’s ok.”

But now Louis does look a bit upset and something is bothering him. It’s like he’s under pressure to get Harry to agree to this.

Harry sighs. Even after everything, it turns out he can’t cope with the idea of Louis being a bit sad, “Alright then. I guess we can give it a go.”

“Really?” Says Louis, and he’s grinning now, like when Harry first walked in the room.

“Yeah.” Says Harry, frowning a bit.

Louis pauses and checks his phone, “Oh shit, I said I’d meet Lottie this afternoon, haven’t seen her since I got back, you know how it is. Been a bit crazy, you know what I mean? I guess I’ll text you, set something up? Great to see you, though!”

And he stands up, and he’s gone, before Harry can even really formulate a response.

Their first event is set up for a week’s time. Calling it an event is a bit much, really. It’s just the two of them being spotted leaving some club together. _Just_ the two of them. But it’ll be the first time they’ll have been spotted spending time together in years and years. It’ll send some parts of the internet mad. It’ll probably even make the papers.

Louis has been the one to set it up, and he’s the one to text Harry the details. That’s kind of weird, but Harry isn’t going to complain about Louis actually talking to him.

_If you just wanna be seen walking out of it at like 2am then nbd. But I thought we could make an evening of it. Supposed to be a pretty cool place, live music and that. Could pick you up like 11, see what’s going on? Got a VIP area that’s pretty private, too._

Harry stares at the text for a long time, before deciding what to reply. On the one hand, it might be easier if they kept their actual contact to a minimum. On the other, it seems like Louis actually wants to be friends again. Harry gets the feeling that this is some kind of test. If he says he just wants to turn up behind some club at 2am, then maybe Louis will go all cold on him again and Harry’s not sure he can cope with that.

_11 sounds good._ He texts back, before he can second guess himself.

At first, it seems like their night out is never going to come. He’s longing for it and dreading it at the same time. Then, it suddenly arrives, and Harry feels completely unprepared. Harry spends most of the day staring at his wardrobe. It’s full of designer suits and custom stuff, all clothes he loves, but if he wears them, will he look like he’s trying too hard? He’s looked up the club online, and whilst it does seem cool, but Harry’s pretty sure it’s not a Gucci suit kind of place. He tries on about five outfits before settling on a pair of tight black jeans, a sheer black shirt, and a pair of black ankle boots with just a few inches of heel.

He tries to tell himself that he doesn’t need to impress Louis, that it’s not like it’s a real date or anything, but he knows that’s rubbish. If he’s going to spend three hours of his life sitting there and desperately wanting Louis, the least he wants is for Louis to think he looks good too. It’s not just that, though. He can remember all the times Louis has sneered at his clothing choices, called them pretentious or stupid, or even just “a bit much”. Harry doesn’t think he can deal with that, tonight. So, he’s walking the line between feeling sexy and confident, but also wearing something that he hopes Louis will approve of.

Harry tries on outfit after outfit, chucking them on the floor and rejecting them, one by one. Even though he started getting read an hour early, he’s barely dressed when Louis arrives.

_You coming out or not?_

The car’s a little early, but it seems like Louis has come to pick Harry up himself, and Harry doesn’t want to keep him waiting. He grabs his phone and rushes down the stairs and out the back.

“Alright?” Says Louis as Harry clambers into the car.

Harry slips into the back of the range-rover, slightly breathless, “I didn’t think you’d come yourself.”

“Why not?” Says Louis, grinning like he picks Harry up for nights out all the time, “We’re going the same place, aren’t we?”

Fine. If Louis is going to pretend like the last several years haven’t happened, Harry can do that too.

“Have you been to this place before?” Asks Harry. He’s aiming for nonchalant, but he’s not sure it quite lands.

“I went along for the opening night. It’s pretty cool.” Says Louis, “Been meaning to go back. Never really got round to it, but I’d been planning to go back.”

Harry nods, and smiles.

“I think you’ll like it.” Adds Louis.

Harry nods again. He’s pretty sure he’ll enjoy anywhere Louis takes him, if he can just relax. But he’s caught up in worrying about what’s going on here, worrying about making an arse of himself, worrying that he might wreck any chance of their friendship working out. Harry takes a moment to focus on his breathing to try and ground himself, but that doesn’t work either because then he’s worrying about being too quiet.

He knows it’s ridiculous. There’s no-one else who can wrong foot him like this. That’s probably part of the problem.

Luckily, it’s just a short drive to the bar. The car takes them around the back, and Louis leads him in and up some stairs marked as private. There’s a separate mezzanine level which overlooks the main bar. Harry can see everything, the whole stage and the floor below, but he can tell that the light and the clever design means that no-one will be able to look up and see them. 

“Wow,” Says Harry, impressed, “This really is private.”

“Yeah,” Says Louis, “Cool, right? I mean, the barman’s going to tell The Mirror he saw us here, but we can do whatever and he won’t say anything apart from that.” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.

“What’ve you got in mind?” Asks Harry.

“Got a bit of Mandy and some coke in my jacket.” Says Louis, “But not if you’re not keen.”

“Um,” Says Harry, “Maybe let’s start with a drink?”

“Yeah,” Says Louis, “What do you fancy?”

Louis starts up a tab behind the bar, and gets Harry a craft beer, whilst he sticks with a Corona. There’s a band downstairs playing a set, and they’re half decent at least. Harry can lean over and watch the crowd below jumping around and singing along to their song, without anyone knowing he’s here. It’s kind of cool. It’s kind of weird.

“What’re you thinking?” Asks Louis.

“Do you ever wish you could go down there, join in with something like that?” Asks Harry.

“Yeah.” Says Louis, “All the time.”

Harry looks across at him, surprised.

“I mean,” Says Louis, “Don’t get me wrong, I love performing, I love being able to make music, I love the money, all of that. Doesn’t mean I never wonder about having a normal life.”

Harry has a thousand questions he wants to ask after that, but the band gets louder, and Louis just takes another sip of his drink. Harry looks away and tries to focus on enjoying the music. 

Three hours later, it’s 2am. Time for their paparazzi call. Harry doesn’t really want the night to end. He’s pleasantly drunk, and he’s done a line of Mandy, enough to feel happy and pleasantly buzzed. The bands have been pretty good, and he’s even danced a bit with Louis. He wants to come back, with more people, make a proper night of it. He doesn’t want this night to end.

“C’mon, love.” Says Louis, standing up and offering Harry his hand.

Louis calls everyone love, from hotel cleaners, to fans, to sound crew, to his best friends. That doesn’t stop the word from sending a frisson down Harry’s spine.

“I like this place.” Says Harry.

“We’ll come back.” Says Louis, “When it’s not for work.”

Harry stands up and sways a little. Maybe he’s drunker than he thinks.

“You got a jacket?” Asks Louis, “It’ll be cold out.”

“Oh…” Says Harry. He can picture the jacket he was going to wear. It’s lying on his bed at home still, which wouldn’t be the end of the world, except, “Shit, Lou, I think I left my keys at home.”

“You did?” Asks Louis, frowning.

“I was gonna bring a jacket.” Says Harry, “But I forgot it. And I think my keys are in it. And the back door locks itself.”

“Course it does,” Says Louis, easily, “Anyone in London got a key?”

Harry frowns. He can’t quite work out what Louis means. Why would anyone have a key to his house?

“Like, someone you’d give a spare key to, just in case?” Louis clarifies, “Your sister, maybe?”

Harry’s never thought about doing that, because apparently he’s an idiot.

“Alright,” says Louis, “I tell you what, you come back to mine, sleep in the spare room, we’ll sort it in the morning.”

Louis says it like it’s nothing, like it’s so normal and easy. Harry ends up agreeing without really thinking it through.

He stands up, looking for the stairs, and trips over his own feet as he does so. It’s just clumsiness, but Louis mistakes it for drunk.

Which is how Harry ends up in the Daily Mail, wearing Louis’ jacket, an arm slung over his neck, stumbling to a car. The tag line says they “spent the evening together at trendy live music spot, Happenstance, before both returning to Tomlinson’s house.”

Of course, Harry doesn’t see that straight away in the morning. When he first wakes up in the crisp white sheets of the Louis’ spare bedroom, he can’t quite work out where he is. It’s tastefully decorated, definitely put together by an interior designer. He can’t quite match up this space with anywhere Louis might live. He remembers coming home with Louis, stumbling in, peeling off his clothes. He thinks he remembers Louis tucking him in, stroking his hair and leaving a glass of water on his bedside, but he’s not totally sure. The night before almost feels like a dream. 

Harry’s head hurts too much, and his mouth is too rank to be part of a dream, though. Slowly, he peels himself out of the bed, and wraps himself in a soft dressing gown that’s been left out for him and heads out into the apartment. The living space is open plan, with big windows, and amazing views over the city. A clock on the wall informs Harry that it’s actually only 9am. He wonders if Louis is even up yet.

The kitchen is spotless, which suggests Louis hasn’t used it in a while, but there’s bacon and eggs in the fridge, so Harry decides to cook something. He can do poached eggs and fry the bacon and put it on toast and it’ll be almost like eggs benedict. He’s so pleased with the idea that it’s only when he’s halfway through making it, he realises that maybe he shouldn’t just help himself to stuff in Louis’ kitchen.

Harry might have panicked, but Louis comes out of his room. He looks a bit worse for wear, but not at all annoyed, “You cooking?”

“Eggs benedict.” Says Harry, “Sorta.”

“Sounds fancy.” Louis grins, and flops onto the sofa, “How’s your head? You were pretty out of it, last night.”

“It’s alright.” Says Harry, “I had a couple of paracetamol, though. I hope that’s alright. I hope me cooking is alright.”

“As long as there’s some for me.” Teases Louis.

“Of course.” Says Harry, too quickly.

His eggs are done, so he dishes up, putting a plate across from Louis, “That’s a good kitchen. Do you ever even use it?”

“I can cook.” Says Louis.

“News to me.” Says Harry.

“I learned.” Said Louis, looking away, “Got to a stage where I couldn’t order in every night.”

Suddenly, Harry feels weirdly, stupidly guilty.

“I’ll make us some tea.” Says Louis.

At least that hasn’t changed. Louis still drinks his tea milky and strong with no sugar, and there’s still industrial quantities of tea bags in the cupboard. 

“So,” Says Harry, “I guess I should get someone to sort a locksmith at my house.”

“Probably.” Says Louis.

Harry nods.

“Um,” Says Louis, “You can shower and borrow a change of clothes, if you want? I’ve got some big hoodies, might fit you.”

Harry nods again.

“Why don’t you do that?” Suggests Louis, “And I’ll get someone to sort your flat out.”

“I can…” Says Harry.

Louis nods, “Yeah, I know. But I want to, yeah?”

By the time Harry’s showered and dressed, Louis has got someone lined up to sort the situation. He tells Harry that they won’t do any work until Harry’s back there though.

Harry supposes he’s outstayed his welcome.

“When will I see you again?” He asks. He can’t help it.

“Liam’s birthday party?” Suggests Louis, “If you’re coming.”

“That’s like…” Harry pauses. He doesn’t want to seem to eager.

“I feel like we should be seen again before then. Let this shit build momentum. Maybe like get coffee or dinner or something.” He says, carefully.

“Alright.” Says Louis, looking over at Harry, “Are you going to sort that, or shall I?”

“I can.” Says Harry, then, because he’s feeling brave, “I had fun, last night.”

“Me too. Yeah, I did too.” Says Louis, with a grin, “Let me know about dinner.”

Once he’s got back into his house, Harry spends most of the morning looking for the perfect place to take Louis for dinner. He finds it, eventually, a place that promises the best burgers in London, with a private room that Harry can book out. He sets a reminder on his phone to text Louis about it in two days, so he doesn’t look too eager.

His phone’s full of messages, most of which he ignores, but there’s one from Gemma saying:

_Louis Tomlinson just messaged me telling me to get a spare key off you. WTF?_

Harry replies, as casually as he can:

_I went to a thing with him last night and got locked out._

The reply comes back almost instantly:

_A thing._

_Band stuff_ , Harry replies.

_You look pretty friendly for band stuff on the fifth page of the mirror._

_We’re friends._ Sends Harry, and then _I was drunk._

_Be careful._ Sends back Gemma.

Harry doesn’t have a reply for that.

Mitch messages him too: _So what’s the deal with you and Louis being seen together after all these years?_

_Just promo stuff._ Replies Harry.

Clearly, Mitch isn’t buying that, because Harry’s phone rings a few minutes later.

“What’re you doing?” He asks.

“Oh, just looking at restaurants in London.” Says Harry.

“No, you idiot,” Says Mitch, affectionately, “With Louis.”

“Oh.” Says Harry but doesn’t expand on that. He’s not sure that he can explain this to anyone else. He’s not sure he understands it himself.

“Harry.” Says Mitch, firm and insistent.

“It’s a promo thing.” Says Harry, “Us being see together, you know, build up interest for the tour.”

“Mmm.” Says Mitch, “You and Louis, that’s an interesting choice.”

“Yeah, well, it’s working.” Harry points out.

“I’m surprised you agreed to it.” Says Mitch, “No, I’m surprised he agreed to it.”

Suddenly, Harry can’t hold back anymore, “I… I think he maybe just doesn’t care like I do. It was years ago, and I think he just wants to be friends.”

“Uhuh.” Says Mitch.

“I got locked out last night, and he let me stay at his. He was so nice about it.” Harry continues.

“That kind of sounds like he was the bare minimum of decent.” Mitch replies.

“No, he was nice.” Insists Harry, “He didn’t want to shag me, though.”

“But you wanted to shag him.” Nick says.

“Yeah.” Admits Harry, “I know… I know…”

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Asks Mitch.

“No.” Says Harry, “I only agreed because Louis was keen for it. I didn’t know how to say no to him.”

“Louis was keen for it.” Repeats Mitch.

“Yeah.” Says Harry.

“Huh.” Mitch sounds disapproving, “Just be careful. Do you even know what you’re getting into here? Have you asked him where he sees this going?”

“No.” Admits Harry, “But…”

“I just can’t see any scenario that doesn’t end up with you getting hurt. All over again.” Says Mitch .

Harry can’t either, but he’s not willing to admit that, so instead he says, “It’s too late to back out now.”

“Clearly.” Says Mitch, “You’re all over the red tops.”

“I’ll be careful.” Harry lies.

“If does anything…” Says Mitch, “I swear I’ll kill him. You tell him that from me.”

Harry laughs, like it’s a joke, even though Mitch sounds pretty serious.

“We should hang out sometime.” Says Harry, instead.

“Yeah,” Says Mitch, “Send me the time and place. Right I gotta go, but be careful, Harry, yeah?”

Mitch hangs up the phone, leaving Harry feeling more stressed out than ever. He wishes everyone wasn’t telling him the opposite of what he wants to hear. Is it so impossible that Louis might actually just miss him too?

The dinner with Louis comes around pretty quickly. This time, Harry remembers his keys, and wears a polo shirt and flared wine-coloured cords. He takes a car to pick up Louis. Dinner is nice. They chat about things that don’t matter and make each other laugh. It all feels surprisingly easy. Louis loves his burger. Harry reckons he can call the night a success.

“So,” Says Louis, after Harry’s paid the bill, “Where do we need to go?”

“What?” Harry’s confused.

“We’re getting papped coming out of here, right?” Louis frowns.

“Oh…” Says Harry, “Oh shit. I… I forgot to get anyone to set that bit up.”

Louis laughs at him.

“Sorry,” Says Harry, quickly.

“Nah,” Says Louis, “It’s alright. I had a good evening. I had fun. It was a good evening, yeah?”

“We could…” Harry pauses, “I mean do you have any paps numbers in your phone?”

“Nah.” Says Louis, then pauses, “We can figure out something though, if you want to, we can figure something out.”

“We could do matching instagrams?” Harry suggests.

They’d both taken pictures of their burgers before eating them.

“Subtle.” Agrees Louis, “I like it. What if we go for a bit of a walk around the block too? See if we can get spotted together, you know what I mean?”

“Yeah.” Says Harry, more because he doesn’t want the night to end, than anything else.

Louis grins and holds out his hand, “What if we held hands?”

They’ve never done anything like this. Not in public. It feels nice, having Louis’ hand tucked inside his, their bodies so close their hips are brushing together, Louis steering him around the suspicious looking puddle in the street. It feels like they still fit together.

At first, it seems like they aren’t going to get spotted. It’s pretty dark, and most people are heading off on their own nights out, not really giving them a second glace. They’re about to call it a night, when a group of twenty-something girls spot them.

“Oh my god!” One of them gasps, “Are you?”

Louis grins, switching on the charm, “Who do you think we are?”

“Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles.” She practically shrieks, “And you’re…”

Louis winks at her, “Just been out for dinner, love.”

“It’s probably a bit dark.” Says her friend, “But could we do a photo?”

“Sure.” Says Louis, “C’mon. Two for one deal, innit?”

He gets the girl to stand between them, and even though they’ve both got their arms around her, their fingers find each other, just like they used to. They do photos with all three of the girls, and then Louis persuades a passer-by to take one of the five of them together.

The first girl looks at them, “Thank you so much, you’ve made our holiday. But… is there any chance… we could get one of the two of you together? It’s ok if you don’t want to?”

Louis makes a show of checking the time, “Yeah, reckon we could do a quick one. What do you say, Harry?”

“Oh.” Says Harry, blinking, “Sure.”

Louis pulls him in close and grins. Harry can’t help but look down at him and grin a bit too. He knows these photos will end up all over the internet. That’s kind of the point of it. But it’s still nice to be here, be pulled in against Louis’ side, to feel like he’s where he’s meant to be.

“Right,” Says Louis, “Better be off now. Some big news coming out soon, by the way, girls.”

And with that, he’s pulling Harry off down the street.

Of course, it’s all over tumblr and twitter by the morning. Even some of the gossip websites have picked it up. _Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles spotted in Soho!_ Reads one of them, above a dark and slightly blurry picture of them together. _The singers posed with fans after getting food at GeR, a restaurant which boasts the “poshest burger in London”. The pair also let fans take a picture of them together, before claiming they had “somewhere else they needed to be”. They appeared to be alone, leading to speculation that they were on a date._

Louis has sent the link to Harry, with a whatsapp- _looks like last night wasn’t a fuck up after all._

_I’m sorry._ Harry messages back.

_What for? That was a bloody good burger._ Louis messages back.

Harry sends back a series of emojis.

_See u at Liams?_ Comes the reply.

_Ofc_ Harry sends back. He wishes he had something else to say, something to keep the conversation going, but he doesn’t want to seem needy. He pushes his phone away from him and starts counting down the days.

Liam has two parties for his birthday. One of them is the private, intimate one, for close friends only. The other is the big, public bash, which is really another publicity generating machine.

The first party is pretty fun. It’s just Liam, the band, some trusted friends and a whole lot of drugs. Harry doesn’t really remember much of it, except lying on Liam’s roof terrace with Louis. They’d barely been touching, just their fingertips laced together. Harry thinks he was babbling on and on about the stars, and how you can barely see them in London. Louis had been listening to him with a wide smile on his face, like there was nowhere on earth he’d rather be. They’d watched the sun come up together, just the two of them.

The second one is a bit less fun. It reminds Harry why he stopped coming to these events. It’s full of people trying to make it as popstars and models and actresses, trying to hitch themselves on to Liam’s star. Harry’s pretty sure that less than half of them even know Liam. It’s all just for show and despite knowing how the game is played, Harry can’t help but think it’s stupid. It’s claustrophobic, and everyone wants a piece of them.

Louis and Harry find themselves cornered on a table with three girls, one who wants to be an actress, one a model, and one who doesn’t seem to have any career in mind but laughs and says she likes coming to parties. The girls try to flirt, and their desperation is kind of painful.

“I guess, you boys never really had normal teenage years.” One of them says, practically draping herself across Louis, oblivious to the fact he really, definitely, is not showing any interest in her.

Louis makes a noise that you might take for agreement if you really wanted to.

“I guess you missed out on all sorts of formative experiences.” She continues, grinning like she’s the cleverest person in the world.

“Like what?” Says Louis, clearly bored.

The girl picks up one of his empty beer bottles, “Well, what about spin the bottle?”

“Um,” Says Louis, “I was eighteen when I was on the x-factor, not twelve.”

“Killjoy.” She says, rolling her eyes. She lies the bottle on its side anyway and Louis probably would have got up and left, if Niall hadn’t chosen that moment to crash up to the table.

“Oi, oi, what’s this then?” He asks, grinning at the girls.

Harry supposes they’re attractive, if you’re into that kind of thing.

Bottle girl grins at him, “Are you up for it? These two were being boring.”

“I’m in.” Says Niall, laughing, “But these two are never boring.”

She flicks the bottle with a carefully manicured finger, and they all watch it spin. It lands on her friend, and she pouts.

“Oh, Cassie, I guess we’re kissing.”

Cassie leans over, and the girls make out for about five seconds. It’s all a show. Their eyes are open the whole time, watching for a reaction.

Cassie grins, “My turn.”

The voice she’s using might be meant to be seductive, but it just sounds stupid to Harry.

She spins the bottle, and her luck must be in, because it lands on Niall.

“Oh.” She gasps.

“Well,” Says Niall, “C’mere then.”

She perches on his lap, and they make out for significantly longer than five seconds. Niall’s hand creeps up her thigh, and she doesn’t stop him. She doesn’t move away, and both of the other girls are watching with undisguised jealousy. 

Niall spins the bottle with a lazy twist of his hand. It lands on Louis. He raises an eyebrow and smirks. 

Louis has to lean around the girl on Niall’s lap to kiss him. They’ve kissed before, back in the early days, when everything was easy and they all just messed around with each other. Harry knows that Niall isn’t really interested in guys unless he has no other option, and he’s even more sure that Louis doesn’t fancy Niall. But none of that stops him feeling jealous.

Louis flicks the bottle hard. It seems to keep spinning for an age. Suddenly, Harry does feel twelve again, desperate for the bottle to land on him.

Unlike when he was twelve, it actually does.

One of the girls gasps.

“You don’t have to.” Louis says, quickly, “It’s a stupid game anyway.”

“You kissed Niall.” Points out one of the girls.

Harry can’t work out what this means. Does it mean Louis doesn’t want to kiss him? Or just doesn’t want to make him uncomfortable?

He hesitates, for too long. Louis stands up, pushing roughly past the girls.

Harry makes some quick apologies and tries to follow but it’s a busy party and Louis is soon lost in the crowd.

Instead, at the bar, he finds Cara. They’ve never really been close, but they both bearded for each other for a while, back in the day. She smiles at him, and for lack of a better option, Harry squeezes in next to her.

“How’s it going?” She asks.

“I’ve lost Louis.” He replies.

She raises an eyebrow, “Is that still a thing?”

“It’s complicated.” He replies, with a sigh.

She nods, like she understands.

“It always is.” She agrees, “Maybe you should just go public with it.”

“Maybe we will.” Harry replies, with a smirk.

“It’s not so bad.” Says Cara, “Honestly. They tell you it’ll wreck your career, but it hasn’t. Not for me.”

Harry remembers she’s in some Amazon Prime thing, opposite Orlando Bloom, “Seems not. How’s acting treating you?”

She smiles, “It’s not exactly what I imagined, but I have fun.”

“Good.” Says Harry, looking at her seriously, “I’m glad you’re happy. I’m glad you got everything you wanted.”

“Thank you.” She sips her drink, “Oh, there’s your man.”

Harry turns to go, and she catches his wrist, “It’s always better to have things out in the open.”

Harry pushes through the crowd to get to Louis. He’s been out for a smoke. Harry can smell it on him. He hopes that means that Louis wasn’t too pissed off with him, and just needed a break.

“God this place is rammed.” Says Louis.

“Do you wanna go?” Asks Harry. It’s one am. He reckons that’s respectable.

Louis looks over at Liam. He’s surrounded by girls who all clearly want a piece of him.

“Looks like Li’s stuck here for the long haul.” He says.

“We won’t get close to him tonight.” Harry replies, “You know he won’t mind if we go.”

“How’ll it look?” Asks Louis, “In the press. If we’re seen leaving early?”

“Does it all have to be about how it looks?” Asks Harry, with a sigh.

“It does a bit.” Says Louis, with an apologetic half smile.

Harry nods. That’s another reason he hates these things.

Louis considers their options, “What if we got a hotel room? Then no-one would see us leave.”

“What about… you know?” Says Harry.

Louis considers this, “What if we did some pics in the photobooth? Whack them all over Instagram and Twitter? That’ll do, right? That’ll do.”

Harry lets Louis pull him over to the booth, passes his phone to a stunned looking waiter. They swap through costumes almost manically. Matching bowler hats. A feather boa and a fan. Some oversized glasses. Louis puts on a top hat and a jacket and looks like a ring master. Harry finds himself in a long blonde wig, laughing crazily as Louis tickles him.

“Right,” Louis whispers in his ear, “Now for the money shot.”

Louis goes up on tiptoes and presses a kiss to Harry’s cheek. Harry feels like he can’t breathe. His heart has sped up to a hundred times its normal rate. They haven’t done anything like this in years. Sure, they’ve held hands and hugged, in the past few weeks, but this is different. It crosses the invisible wall that they’ve built between them. Harry’s barely aware of what’s happening, as Louis leads him out of the party.

“Here’s what I reckon.” Louis says in the lift, “We post a few pictures on Instagram tonight, make sure one of them has you in that wig. Then, a few days later, we post an edit of that one where I kiss your cheek, right, make sure your face can’t be seen. But the people who are looking for it, they’ll know.”

He’s grinning, triumphantly, like he’s some kind of mastermind, but to Harry, it’s a punch in the gut. How can Louis be so calm and rational about this, when Harry’s whole world has tilted on its axis? Harry doesn’t say anything. He tries to keep his face calm, as his stomach twists itself into knots. Part of him practically wants to run off and cry, but he can’t do that. If Louis doesn’t care, he shouldn’t either. 

Louis tugs him along to the hotel room and pushes open the door. Harry blinks and looks around in confusion. There’s only one bed.

“Um, Lou.” He says.

“They only had double rooms left.” Says Louis, apologetically.

“And you couldn’t spring for two? Some popstar.” Harry teases.

Louis shuffles his feet, “I didn’t think… I didn’t think it would be a good idea if someone told the press we slept in separate bedrooms. I can take the sofa.”

Harry looks at the sofa. It’s some kind of weird contemporary thing, with a wooden frame. Harry doesn’t think it’s designed to be slept on.

“Or the floor.” Continues Louis, “Or I’ll just get another room, it’s ok, it’s cool.”

“No.” Says Harry, “You’re right, we should spend the night together. There’s way too many people here who will talk to the press, otherwise.”

The bed’s big. It’s a super king at least, with a mad, oversized gold headboard, and about a million cushions and pillows all over it.

“Why don’t we share?” Says Harry, “It’s a big enough bed.”

“Are you sure?” Says Louis.

Harry nods, “I’m sure.”

“I might shower before bed.” Offers Louis.

Harry nods again, “I’m shattered, so like…”

Of course, Harry’s still awake when Louis crawls in beside him. Harry’s stripped down to his boxers, but he’s pretty sure Louis is actually naked. Maybe he expected Harry to be too? That’s how they used to sleep. But Harry assumed that would be weird. More than that, he needs to keep his barriers up. Whatever he feels about Louis, there’s no sign that Louis wants anything other than friendship, and if Harry gives any hint of his true feelings, he’ll send Louis running for the hills. 

Harry pretends to be asleep, sprawled on his side of the bed. It’s the easiest way to avoid any awkward conversations. He listens to Louis’ breathing, lying perfectly still, until he’s pretty sure the other boy has fallen asleep.

Harry thinks he’ll be up half the night, can’t imagine how he’ll get any sleep with Louis so near and yet so far. But he must pass out at some point, because suddenly, he’s blinking against the sunlight. The next thing he realises, still barely awake, is that he’s rolled over in his sleep and he’s spooning Louis. He tries to pull away, but it’s not that easy. Their arms and legs are all tangled together, and Louis is holding on pretty tight.

At first, Harry thinks he’ll just have to wait for Louis to relax a bit more in his sleep, but then he realises he’s hard. _Fuck._ Bad enough he’s cuddled him in his sleep. That’s normal enough when you’re sharing a bed, Harry reckons. Being hard is just embarrassing, though. Last night made it clear Louis doesn’t want him anymore, and he doesn’t want to appear desperate. He thinks Louis would be kind about it, but if there’s one thing on earth Harry won’t be able to stand, it’s Louis’ pity.

“Sorry, gotta pee.” He pushes Louis away, a little too roughly.

Louis twists, bleary eyed and confused.

By the time Harry’s come back into the bedroom, Louis is asleep again. He’s wrapped himself up in the covers and his face is pressed against the pillow. He looks relaxed, peaceful in a way he never does when he’s awake. Harry sits on the edge of the bed considering his next move. Pretty much every part of him wants to climb back into bed with Louis, but he can’t. He knows he won’t get back to sleep now, anyway, even though it’s just six am.

Sighing and feeling a little bit miserable, he texts and arranges for a car and a change of clothes to be brought for him. And then, just in case, he asks for a spare set for Louis. His people have a spare key now, so they can bring the stuff straight from his house. They’re at the hotel before seven and Harry changes quietly enough that Louis doesn’t wake up. 

It seems rude, though, to just walk out. Harry can’t help but think how he’d feel, if it were him. He knows Louis doesn’t feel the way he does. But he rationalises it. Louis might still feel a bit rejected. He might think that he’s done something to piss Harry off. It might make things awkward.

He strokes a hand through Louis’ hair, gently waking him up.

“I’m gonna head off, Lou.” He says, “I’ve left some clothes for you, just in case.”

“Sure.” Louis mumbles, sleepily, “See you later, love.”

Harry can’t help himself. He strokes Louis’ hair again, soft and gentle, “Sweet dreams.”

“Mmm.” Louis mumbles into the pillow. There’s a sleepy smile on his face.

Harry leans down and pressed a kiss against Louis’ temple. He knows he shouldn’t but watching the other boy sleep makes him feel tender and affectionate. Louis looks like he’s fallen back asleep already. He doesn’t seem to notice.

He gets a text from Louis at about midday.

_This jumper’s well comfy._

There’s a selfie, too. Louis is still wearing Harry’s oversized wool knit. He looks cute in it, which is the last thing that Harry’s poor, battered heart needs.

It’s followed by another text.

_Check out insta. I told your team what to put up too. Hope that’s ok._

Harry checks Instagram. Just like Louis said, there’s pictures from the photobooth. Although there’s nothing that doesn’t look platonic, Harry can’t get over how happy they both look. They’re grinning and joking around, acting like they’re still teenagers, full of the same manic energy they had on the X-factor. He can’t see how people won’t look at these pictures and assume something. Of course, that’s kind of the point, but it feels weird. Harry’s got so used to hiding that the idea of being seen is terrifying. 

It seems like a lot of people have seen something because Harry’s phone is full of messages. He ignores most of them as the usual nonsense, but he spots one from Niall.

_Heard you and Lou shared a hotel room last night._

_Did you have fun with that girl?_ Harry responds.

_And her mate._ Says Niall.

Harry doesn’t reply straight away, but then there’s another text from Niall. _Did u get lucky 2?_

_Lol you know this is all fake, right?_ Harry replies.

Niall doesn’t respond to that straight away.

Scrolling through the rest of his messages, he notices one from an unknown number. _U hurt him again I’ll kill u_

Well. That’s not creepy at all.

Then Niall responds. _Yeah I do. Do u?_

And that’s all Harry needs. He throws his phone across the room.

It starts ringing. It’s Louis. Anyone else, Harry would ignore right now, but he can’t bring himself to hang up on Louis.

“Did you like the pics?” Louis sounds almost nervous.

“Yeah,” Says Harry, “Sure. We look happy.”

“Good.” Says Louis, “I’ll wash your jumper and get it back to you.”

“Keep it if you want.” Says Harry, “It looks good on you.”

“Don’t you want it back?” Asks Louis.

Harry does like that jumper, but he picked it because he knew Louis would love it, “Nah. It’s alright. Besides, if you get papped in it, people will know we’re sharing clothes again.”

“Man with a plan.” Says Louis, “I like it. So, anyway, I thought we should set something up again soon, like keep the momentum going on this?”

“Um. Sure.” Says Harry, “It’s your turn to pick the place.”

“Ok,” Says Louis, “Let me know when you’re free.”

He’d clear his schedule for Louis, but he doesn’t say that.

“Um,” He says, instead, “I got a weird text just now.”

“Weird how?” Louis sounds concerned.

“I dunno,” Says Harry, “Like a bit creepy maybe? From an unknown number?”

“Want me to take a look?” Asks Louis. 

“I mean it might just be nothing.” Harry continues, but he sends Louis a screenshot anyway.

There’s a pause while Louis looks at it.

“Oh.” He says in an odd sort of voice.

“What?” Frowns Harry.

“Uh, that’s, uh, Zayn.”

“Zayn?”

“Yeah, Zayn Malik, you know, used to be part of a band with us. Mighta heard of him?”

“Yes, I know who Zayn is.” Snaps Harry, “I just didn’t know you two were speaking.”

Louis grunts, like it’s no big deal, but it is to Harry.

“What have you told him about us?” Harry’s aware he sounds whiny, but he can’t help it. He hates the idea that Louis might have been talking to Zayn all these years and not him.

“We were friends.” Louis snaps back, “Longer than we were anything else. We talk sometimes.”

Harry says nothing.

“The thing is, Haz,” Says Louis carefully, “He’s maybe up for joining us for some of the shows. And I know Liam and Niall would like him there.”

“Oh.” Says Harry, coldly, “You’ve all been discussing this behind my back, have you?”

“Nothing’s decided.” Says Louis, and Harry hates the placating tone in his voice. “Harry, we just talked about it. Nothing’s, like, decided, set in stone yet, we were just talking.”

It all makes sense now, to Harry. Why Louis has been being so nice.

“Fuck this.” Harry says, and hangs up the phone.

Louis calls back. He calls three times, actually. Before, Harry would have been ecstatic about that, but now he knows that it’s all about Zayn, he doesn’t care. He turns his phone off and goes to curl up in bed and watch a film. It doesn’t work. He can’t focus. All he can think about is Louis. Louis talking to Zayn. All of the guys getting together and discussing how to handle him. All of this being decided without any of his input.

Finally, Harry gives up, finds his phone and checks it. Louis hasn’t called again, but there’s a million more texts, not just from Louis, but Niall and Liam too. And that number that Harry guesses must be Zayn.

_Haz I’m sorry, please talk to me._ That’s Louis.

Followed by _I’m sorry you feel I went behind your back. Please call back._

And finally, _I know I’ve fucked up please talk to me._

Liam is more business-like. _Harry I no u n zayn dont really get on but I think it wud be good if we could get the whole band back together 4 this._

_The fans wud luv it._

Niall’s the only one who says _If you really don’t want zayn back we don’t have to have him. Without u this show doesn’t happen._

It’s actually the text from Zayn that surprises Harry the most. _Probs shouldn’t have opened with that. Sorry._

Harry sighs. He feels like he’s been backed into a corner.

“Fuck it,” He swears out loud.

He needs to talk to someone outside of the situation, so he decides to call Nick.

“Hey, popstar.” Nick answers the phone, sounding all perky and jolly.

“Don’t.” Grumbles Harry.

“I saw those pics of you and your man.” Says Nick.

“He’s not my man.” Says Harry.

“Coulda fooled me.”

“He’s not my man.” Repeats Harry.

“Looks like he’d like to be?” Suggests Nick.

“Nah,” Says Harry, “It’s about Zayn.”

“About what?” Nick asks.

“Zayn.” Says Harry, “They all want Zayn to come back for the tour, and Louis has just been softening me up for it. So, I’ll agree.”

“What?” Says Nick.

“He’s been talking to Zayn all this time.” Says Harry, even though he’s not sure that’s true, “It’s not fair.”

“What’s not fair?” Asks Nick, “That Louis speaks to his friends?”

“They aren’t supposed to be friends.” Harry whines, and he knows he’s being ridiculous, but he can’t help it, “We agreed, it was all Zayn’s fault. We’ve got like… bad blood with him.”

“You and Louis have?” Nick clarifies, “And Louis was supposed to stick to that, all these years?”

When Nick puts it like that Harry feels even more stupid.

“It’s just like…” Harry sighs, “Me and Zayn, I guess sometimes it felt like we were rivals for Louis’ affection, or something. Like, they were so close too.”

“But Louis and Liam are pretty close now, and you don’t hate Liam.” Nick points out.

“It’s different with Liam.” Says Harry.

“And everything is Zayn’s fault.” Nick continues, a little too sarcastically for Harry’s liking, “He just dragged Louis off to some resort and forced him to fall cock first into someone else. He’s a poor innocent who can’t take any responsibility for his own actions.”

Harry doesn’t have anything to say to that, instead he says, “They’ve got me between a rock and a hard place, though. If I don’t agree to Zayn coming back, I ruin it for everyone. The fans too, I guess.”

“Break a million teenage girls’ hearts if they knew.” Agrees Nick.

“But if he does come back, it’ll just make everything shit again.” Says Harry, “He’s already giving me shit.”

“Giving you shit?” Asks Nick.

“He sent me a text. Dunno how he got my number.” Harry explains.

“A text.” Nick says, deadpan.

“Threatening me.” Harry clarifies.

“That sounds pretty… proactive… for Zayn.” Says Nick.

“Well, he said if I hurt Louis again, he’d kill me.” Harry clarifies.

“Ah.” Says Nick, “I see. And you don’t think Louis might be getting lots of similar texts from your mates?”

“I hope not.” Says Harry, quickly, “Anyway, it’s not like I could actually hurt Louis.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure.” Says Nick, “But, anyway, have you actually spoken to Zayn about this?”

Harry says nothing.

“I know you blame him for a lot.” Says Nick, “But I think he was going through some pretty rubbish stuff at the same time. Maybe it would be worth talking to him. Hear what he’s got to say.”

“I don’t want to.” Harry says.

“Sometimes,” Says Nick, “You have to make compromises. Just call him. Once. If it’s shit then you can tell the other lads that it won’t work, yeah?”

“Yeah, alright.” Harry finally agrees.

Harry knows if he puts off calling Zayn, he won’t do it, but he promised Nick he’d try. The number rings, and for a while, Harry thinks Zayn won’t pick up. Zayn’s always been unreliable. Academically, Harry knows that’s partly because of Zayn’s issues with anxiety and everything else, but he couldn’t help being a bit annoyed by it. Then again, there was a time when everything Zayn did annoyed him. It’s not fair, or rational, but jealousy usually isn’t. 

But then, there’s a voice, “Hello?”

Zayn’s voice is softer and quieter than Harry remembers it.

“Hi.” Says Harry, “It’s, uh, Harry. Styles.”

His voice has gone slow, like it does in interviews. He’s picking every word carefully.

“Hi.” Says Zayn.

Not knowing what else to say, Harry blurts out, “We aren’t actually going out again, you know?”

“Huh.” Says Zayn, “But he took you to that bar. And you went to dinner. And Liam said…”

“It’s fake.” Says Harry.

“Maybe to you.” Says Zayn.

“He was the one who talked me into it.” Harry insists.

“Ok.” Says Zayn, “Still, be careful with him.”

It usually takes a lot to piss Harry off. Right now, though, he’s too tightly wound. He snaps, “What about me? Who’s careful with me?”

“Shit, dude.” Says Zayn.

Harry says nothing.

“Do you…” Zayn starts.

“Still love him?” Harry finishes.

“Shit.” Says Zayn, like that’s a confession, “Shit. I’m sorry.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Says Harry, quickly. “I know he doesn’t feel like that.”

“Harry.” Says Zayn, softly.

Harry can’t let Zayn pity him, so he interrupts, “I guess I’m still bitter about stuff. But I guess the rest of the guys want you back, so I guess… Just… Don’t be a shit about it.”

His voice has gone deep and careful and slow again. The anger is seeping out of him. He’s rational to know this particular situation isn’t Zayn’s fault, and it’s not fair to fly off the handle at him.

Zayn sighs, “Liam wants me back in. I’m not sure I can do it.”

“Oh.” Says Harry.

They’re both silent for a while.

Finally, Harry says, “Maybe we should all meet up. Talk about this. In person. Like grownups.”

“I’m in New York.” Says Zayn, but then, after a pause, he says, “Yeah, I know you’re right. I’ll see what I can do about getting back over there.”

“Ok.” Says Harry.

“Ok.” Says Zayn.

Harry should hang up, but for some reason, he doesn’t.

“Harry.” Says Zayn, “I’m sorry. I did fuck shit up.”

Harry sighs, “I guess maybe I blamed you too much though. It wasn’t all your fault.”

“Yeah, well.” Says Zayn, “It wasn’t not my fault, either.”

Harry makes a noise that might be agreement.

“I don’t think he ever stopped loving you.” Says Zayn.

“Don’t.” Says Harry, “Please.”

Zayn must hear some of the pain in his voice, because he says, “Harry, man, are you sure all of this is a good idea?”

“No.” Whispers Harry, “But I’m doing it for him. He said they’d let him come out. He said he wanted to.”

“Just, like… take care of yourself, yeah?” Says Zayn.

Zayn’s getting dangerously close to sounding like he might feel sorry for Harry.

“I am.”

“Ok.” Says Zayn. It doesn’t sound like he believes him.

“I’ll see you, I guess.”

“Yeah. Good talk, man.”

The conversation leaves Harry thoroughly worn out. He curls up in bed, and ends up falling asleep.

When Harry wakes up, it’s late evening. There’s like fifty more texts on his phone from Louis. Most of them are some variation of _You called Zayn, why won’t you talk to me._ And _Whatever Zayn says, it’s not tru._ That covers a lot of bases, but Harry wonders what Louis is worried about.

Harry’s still not sure exactly what to say to Louis. His conversation with Zayn was pretty weird. However, he’s even more worried about what might happen if he doesn’t talk to Louis. It sounds like Louis is already pissed off with him. If he leaves it too long, he might not be able to fix this.

Harry calls Louis, ignoring the way his fingers are shaking.

Louis answers on the second ring, “Harry. I am so, so sorry. I fucked up, I know I fucked up. I’m sorry, I’m really bloody sorry, Harry…”

“It’s alright.” Says Harry, “I spoke to Zayn.”

“I know.” Says Louis, “Look, I’m sorry, I really am. I know I’ve fucked up, just please give me a chance to explain myself.”

“It’s alright.” Says Harry again, “At the time I was upset, but Zayn was alright. He’s going to fly over. We’re going to meet together like five professionals and talk about this.”

“Really?” Says Louis, “For real?”

“Yeah.” Says Harry, “But Lou, he said he’s not even sure he can do it. I’m not sure it’s a good idea to put too much pressure on him.”

“God,” Says Louis, “What did you talk about? Suddenly, he’s sticking up for you, and you’re sticking up for him.”

Harry thinks about his almost-confession and his stomach twists with anxiety, “I think he might have got the wrong end of the stick with some stuff.”

“Oh.” Says Louis, “Ok.”

“Seemed to think you were in this for real.” Harry says. He means it to come out like a joke, but it falls flat.

“He said that?” Louis’ voice sounds a little strange, “Oh well, you know Zayn.”

Harry doesn’t, not really, but he doesn’t want to talk about this anymore.

Fortunately, Louis changes the subject, “Look, what if we hang out tomorrow? No promo, just me and you? We could get a picnic, take it to a park or something. I know you love that shit.”

“Why?” Says Harry.

He can practically hear Louis’ face fall, and he suddenly feels like a dick.

“I just… I thought it might be nice.” Says Louis. He sounds as unsure as Harry has ever heard him. Louis is never unsure. He can be insecure, but he covers it up by being big and brash and larger than life. He picks an idea and runs with it, regardless of how much trouble it’ll get him into. He never shows any doubt to anyone. Well, except Harry, once upon a time.

“It would be nice.” Says Harry.

“Pick you up at twelve?” Says Louis.

“Yeah, alright.” Says Harry.

“Great.” Says Louis, “It’ll be great.”

“See you later then.” Says Harry.

“Yeah, yeah.” Says Louis.

“Bye.” Says Harry.

“Bye.” Says Louis.

Neither of them has hung up the phone.

“I’m, uh, going to hang up the phone now.” Says Harry.

“Yeah, bye.” Says Louis.

It still takes Harry about another twenty seconds to hang up.

The next day, Harry wakes up early and can’t sit still. Once again, he spends ages sorting through his wardrobe, looking for the perfect outfit that says, casual picnic with a friend. It’s not a date. He knows it’s not a date. But it’s something, isn’t it? Going for a picnic, just the two of them, doesn’t seem like a super platonic activity to Harry. It means something. It has to mean something.

He texts Mitch.

_So Louis wants to go for a picnic today, no promo, just us. Seems kinda weird like it might almost be a date. It’s definitely not a date is it? Tell me I’m being stupid._

Mitch doesn’t message back for a while, and Harry tries to eat some breakfast despite the sick feeling in his stomach. Eventually, the reply comes, _Why don’t you just ask him?_

_What if it’s not? I don’t want him to know I still feel stuff if he doesn’t._

_I think the only way you’re going to find out is if you take a risk._

_I don’t think I’m ready._

_What’ll you do differently if it’s a date?_

The answer to that is really nothing, Harry realises.

_Good point._

Midday seems to take forever to come around. Harry spends the whole morning on edge, unable to settle down and read or watch TV or do anything. Then Louis is slightly late. He texts _Traffics mad, sorry._ But that doesn’t help the way Harry’s feeling.

He’s tried to dress casually for the picnic, a polo shirt and loose chinos, with a jacket in case it gets chilly. He’s wearing sunglasses and a newsboy cap, so hopefully he won’t be easily spotted by passers-by. But now he’s worried. Should he have made more of an effort? How much of an effort will Louis have made? It’s probably too late to change. Harry definitely doesn’t want a repeat of the debacle where he locked himself out of his house.

Finally, Louis arrives. Harry goes out to the car.

“I’m sorry. Traffic was shocking.” Says Louis.

“S’alright.” Says Harry.

Louis smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes, “S’posed to be making shit up to you though, aren’t I?”

“It’s alright.” Says Harry again, “You don’t have to do anything.”

“I want us to be friends.” Louis pouts.

Harry looks out the window. The traffic’s still bad. It’s going to take them at least half an hour to get to any of the decent parks.

“I know we weren’t friends before.” Louis continues, “But I’d like us to be. I miss you.”

“What d’you mean?” Says Harry, “We weren’t friends?”

“Well, we, like, started fucking.” Says Louis, “Pretty much as soon as we’d met. And then we went out. And then we broke up. Like…”

“Yeah.” Says Harry, “Ok. Friends.”

He’s trying not to sound miserable. Friends isn’t bad, exactly, but he wants so much more than that. If Louis doesn’t, it’ll to be hard to live with.

“I want you to be able to trust me again.” Says Louis, “I know that’s not gonna be easy, and the Zayn thing hasn’t helped.”

“Trust you?” Says Harry, frowning.

“Well, you don’t, do you?” Louis asks, kicking his foot against Harry’s leg.

Harry shifts so he’s looking at Louis, rather than the back of the seat in front of him, “I don’t not trust you.”

Louis nods, but he doesn’t look happy.

“There’s different things, aren’t there?” Says Harry, “Like, if I had a secret, I reckon I could tell you it. You’d never tell anything about me to the papers. And if I was in trouble like… money or some shit, I think you’d help me.”

“Course I would.” Says Louis, quickly.

“But you did like…” Harry pauses, thinking about how to phrase this without starting a fight, “I don’t trust you to care about my happiness the most. Not that you should, anymore.”

“Shoulda done then, though.” Says Louis.

“It was a shit time.” Says Harry, “We were under a lot of pressure.”

“Do you ever think…” Louis pauses and looks away, “In another life we would’ve made it?”

“If we could’ve been out, you mean?” Asks Harry.

“If we weren’t famous?” Louis offers.

“I don’t know.” Says Harry, slowly, “Maybe. But without the X factor we’d’ve never met.”

“I can’t imagine my life never meeting you.” Says Louis.

And wow, that’s… that’s a lot for Harry to take on board.

Fortunately, the car comes to a stop.

“Where are we?” He asks.

“Hampstead Heath,” Says Louis with a grin.

The heath is great. Even though it’s busy with people enjoying the sunshine, there’s lots of places hidden by bushes and trees, so they can find somewhere secluded. Plus, it’s mostly Londoners, who can be trusted to look right through people as if they’re not there, rather than the sort of tourists that will spot them and mob them. 

They find a place to have their picnic, hidden from the main paths, but still sunny. Louis spreads out the blanket and puts down the picnic basket.

“I got prosecco,” He says, “I wanted to be fancy.”

It’s ridiculous that Louis is a multi-millionaire and considers prosecco fancy, Harry thinks. He’s not confident enough tease him about it, though, so he accepts a glass politely.

“And salmon and cream cheese.” Louis continues, digging out some sandwiches, “For you. And Tuna salad for me. And then strawberries and cream.”

“Sounds lovely.” Says Harry, smiling.

It is lovely. It’s everything they’ve never done. Just small and simple, hidden in the park, having a picnic like a normal couple.

“You know what this place is famous for?” Asked Louis.

“What?” Asks Harry, with a smirk.

“Cruising.” Says Louis, “Like blokes meeting up for a shag in the bushes.”

“Yeah.” Says Harry, “I know what cruising is.”

Louis laughs, nervously.

Harry can’t tell if Louis is just trying to make him laugh or flirting really badly. He wishes he wasn’t second guessing everything. His hand inches across the blanket towards Louis’.

“Are you suggesting something?” Says Harry, with a smirk.

“Um.” Louis looks away. There’s the slightest tinge of pink on his cheeks. Louis is never embarrassed.

“I’m joking.” Says Harry, softly.

“Oh. Right. Course.” Says Louis, “Course you are, lad.”

But just like that, a wall goes up. It’s not that Louis goes cold. If anything, he tries twice as hard. He’s talking twice as fast as he was before. Everything’s pitched to be a joke, to make Harry laugh. The difference is, none of it feels meaningful. It’s just Louis putting on an act. Filling the space. He’d let himself be vulnerable for a second, and Harry feels like he’s ruined it.

Harry knows he’s not helping. He’s overthinking everything, which is making him too quiet. He’s so far inside his own head that he’s barely keeping up his end of the conversation. His silence just makes Louis more manic. None of it feels easy, like the past couple of times they’ve hung out.

“Louis.” Says Harry, “Slow down.”

Louis’ jaw clamps shut, which isn’t a good sign.

“I’m sorry.” Says Harry, “You’re making all this effort, and I’m just…”

Louis shrugs, “It was probably a stupid idea anyway. I thought… I dunno… I thought it was the sort of thing you’d like… back in the day you’d have gone mad for this… I guess I thought…”

“Louis.” Says Harry, “I like it. I appreciate all the effort you’ve gone to.”

“Oh.” Says Louis, softly.

Harry slides his hand over, until it’s covering Louis’, “I’m just confused.”

“Confused?” Louis repeats, “What’ve you got to be confused about?”

“Everything.” Says Harry, “This. Us. What’s going on here?”

“What do you want to be going on here?” Louis is being cheeky again, but now it feels like there’s something sincere underneath.

“I don’t think it’s that simple.” Says Harry, “Can you just be serious for a minute?”

“Yeah. Yeah, sure.” Louis says.

“This is all fake, right?” Says Harry, “It was all for the paps. For management.”

Harry can see Louis’ walls going back up.

“But sometimes it feels like more than that.” Harry says, “But Louis, we can’t just slip into this. This can’t be some casual thing to me. We’ve got too much history.”

Louis swallows and looks away.

“There’s things we should talk about.” Says Harry.

“It’s ok.” Says Louis, “I get it. You don’t need to say it. What’s between us got broken and it’s beyond fixing. You don’t want me anymore. You don’t have to tell me that.”

Louis pushes himself up, “Guess we’d better get going.”

Harry can barely process what Louis is saying, and he’s already marching off.

“Louis.” Harry calls, “Louis, that wasn’t what I was trying to say. I don’t think it’s beyond fixing.”

Louis turns back to look at Harry, “You don’t?”

“I just think we should talk about stuff.” Says Harry, pushing himself up, “And I’m not sure this is the right time. With the tour.”

“After the shows, you’ll just disappear again.” Louis says, and that flash of vulnerability is back, “It’s been years. I haven’t seen you for years.”

“We don’t have to go back to that.” Says Harry, “I thought we were gonna be friends?”

Louis presses his lips together, “Friends, yeah.”

“You said that, not me.” Harry takes a few steps towards him.

“Harry.” Says Louis.

“We can’t just… slip back into what we were.” Says Harry, “I’m not saying…”- he bites himself off. Despite everything, he’s still not sure of Louis- “There are just things we should talk about.”

“Do we have to?” Louis practically whines.

“Yeah.” Says Harry, “Yeah, I think we do. And maybe not in the middle of a park.”

Louis nods. It’s small and it looks vulnerable.

“We could go back to mine?” Harry offers.

Louis has never been to Harry’s house. He can’t help but see the place through Louis’ eyes. Harry loves it, of course. It’s an eclectic mix of things he’s picked up from travelling all over the world. The furniture’s all vintage and antique, nothing new. He likes things with history, things with a story. It’s nothing like Louis’ crisp, white apartment, but Harry’s house reflects his personality. He’s picked everything here himself.

Louis probably thinks it’s pretentious.

He doesn’t say that, though, just, “What’s a lad got to do around here to get a cuppa?”

Harry rolls his eyes, but it’s easy to do Louis his tea just how he likes it. Louis takes it and curls up in a chair, hands hidden inside his hoodie, wrapped around the cup.

“Go on, then.” He says.

It feels like a challenge.

“You cheated.” Harry says.

“Wow.” Says Louis, “Straight in there.”

Harry says nothing. He’s not the one in the wrong here.

Louis stays silent, practically glaring at Harry.

Apparently, Harry is going to have to be the brave one, here, “We never talked about it.”

Shouted about it, maybe. Screamed about it in a hotel room and on a private jet. Argued about it at least a few times, before they both decided it would be better if they stopped talking to each other all together. 

“Things were fucked up before that.” Louis replies, “We coulda fixed it, maybe, but things were already fucked up.”

Maybe that’s true. Their relationship had been slowly disintegrating throughout the tour. They hadn’t fought, but Louis had already been spending more time away from Harry, with Zayn and Liam, and other people. Harry had become jealous, clung too tight, maybe. Maybe Louis had stopped wanting him.

“You were over me.” Harry states it flatly, like a fact.

Louis’ forehead creases with a frown, but he doesn’t say anything.

“You were already over me, it had already gone to shit, and you just didn’t know how to end it?” Harry continues, “So when you met someone… you wanted me to find out…”

“You make it sound like I wanted to hurt you.” Louis says. He sips his tea carefully.

Harry shrugs, “Didn’t you?”

“No.” Says Louis, “I never wanted to hurt you.”

“But…” Says Harry.

“You were saying all this shit. For weeks, you’d been talking about what if we broke up, if we took a break, if we needed space.” Louis said, “You made out like you didn’t want me anymore. I remember you saying, it would be like marrying your sixth form boyfriend and how no-one does that, like…”

“Yeah.” Says Harry, “Cos I thought you were over me. And I wanted us to be able to manage a clean break. To not fuck things up.”

“I never stopped wanting you.” Says Louis, “I guess, I guess maybe I took you for granted a bit. I thought you’d always be there. I didn’t know what it would be like to lose you.”

“So… what? You just thought you could go and fuck some girl and I’d be fine with that?” Harry asks.

“No.” Says Louis, “Clearly not. I just… I just… I had some stuff to figure out, ok.”

“Like what?” Asks Harry.

“Whether I really was gay or not.” Says Louis, “I know… I know… but we were young. You were the only guy I’d ever been with…”

“And?” Says Harry, “What did you figure out?”

“Nothing, at first.” Says Louis, “I didn’t figure it out til much later. But yeah, I don’t like girls.”

“Ok.” Says Harry.

“I know what you’re gonna say.” Says Louis.

“Do you?” Says Harry, flatly.

“That it was Zayn.” Says Louis, “That he was jealous and wanted to fuck us up.”

“Nah.” Says Harry, “I reckon you’re responsible for your own actions.”

“Oh.” Says Louis, “Yeah, well, I am.”

They sit in silence, for a little while.

“Would it mean anything if I said I’d do anything to take it back?” Asks Louis.

Harry frowns a little, “Even now? Even if it meant not being sure about… being gay?”

“Yeah.” Says Louis, “Even now.”

Harry isn’t sure what to say to that.

“Harry.” Says Louis, “Can I just make one thing really clear? I never stopped being in love with you. I never figured out how to stop. I fucked up the best thing I ever had.”

Harry’s shaking. He feels a bit sick. The room seems to be spinning, just a bit. He’s never had a panic attack before, but he wonders if this might be what one feels like.

What does Harry do with this information?

Louis is staring at him. He wants a response. He needs a response. Even feeling like he might throw up, Harry can see Louis is hanging by a thread.

“I’m sorry.” Says Louis, “This isn’t what you signed up for. I’m sorry, I should…”

“Don’t.” Harry chokes out.

Louis doesn’t. He takes a gulp of his tea.

“I’m sorry.” Says Harry, finally, “It’s just a lot… I never thought…”

“Does that mean there’s still, like… a chance?” Asks Louis, “For us?”

He looks small and scared and a little bit desperate.

Harry crosses the space between them, and sort of leans over Louis and presses their lips together. At first, Louis is too stunned to respond. Then, suddenly, he’s kissing back, tangling his hand in Harry’s hair, his tongue inside Harry’s mouth. They’re drinking each other in, pressing together like people who’ve been stranded for far too long.

Harry pulls Louis off the chair and on top of him. They kiss and nothing about it is polite or graceful. They’re hungry, tongues pushing deep, teeth clashing, lips bruising together. Harry arches his hips up into Louis, his cock hardening. He wraps his arms around Louis, holding them tight together, touching Louis everywhere, his sides, his arse, his back, his shoulders, pulling him down. Harry can feel that Louis is hard too, and just as he’s wondering if he should do something about that, Louis unzips Harry’s jeans.

“Is this alright?” He asks.

It’s all Harry can do to nod and whine. Louis is looking deep into Harry’s eyes, and something about the intensity of it makes Harry twist his face away. Louis’ hand is wrapped around both of their cocks, pressing them together, working them with firm, sure strokes. Harry moans and arches his neck, twisting on the floor under Louis. Louis kisses his neck, and Harry moans harder, giving into it, losing control.

Louis works their cocks for a while, straddling Harry, pumping his hand up and down, building up, going faster. At one point, Harry reaches up to take over, but Louis gently pushes his hands away. The pressure builds inside Harry. He’s moaning for Louis now.

“Lou,” He whines desperately, “Lou, ah, I’m gonna… cum… ah… ah…ughn.”

With a moan, he comes over himself. He feels Louis still working his own cock, but seconds later, Louis moans too, and comes, falling bonelessly on top of Harry. Harry shifts him to the side a little bit and wraps a lazy arm around him. For a moment, everything feels perfect. There’s a bit of Harry that always stands outside himself, and that part of him knows this probably hasn’t helped anything. But the rest of Harry doesn’t care. For ten minutes, he can lie here, post orgasm, with Louis Tomlinson in his arms. It feels like coming home.

They lie like that for a while. Time ceases to mean anything. Neither of them speaks, afraid to ruin the moment, afraid to break the spell that’s holding them together. The floor’s hard, Harry’s back and hips are hurting from it, but he doesn’t move. His arm strokes up and down Louis’ side. Occasionally, he presses soft kisses against the top of Louis’ head. Louis’ hand is tangled in Harry’s shirt, gripping it tightly. His breath is soft against Harry’s neck.

Eventually, Louis’ phone starts to buzz, insistently. Someone’s calling him over and over.

“I’d better get that.” He sounds apologetic.

He picks the call up without seeing who it is.

“Oh, hey man.” He says, sitting up, leaning against Harry’s sofa.

Harry’s suddenly aware of what a mess he is, how much cum there is drying on his clothes.

“Yeah, yeah, sounds good.” Louis is saying, “Yeah can do. Yeah that should work.”

He’s nodding along with whatever.

Finally, he hangs up, “Sorry, that was Zayn.”

Of course, it was. Zayn always fucks things up.

“I’d better get cleaned up.” Is what Harry says, “Will you stay for dinner?”

Louis pauses, checks his phone, and then nods, “Yeah… yeah… if you’ll have me.”

“And after,” Suggests Harry, “We could try and make it to the bedroom.”

If Harry ever thought that fucking Louis would solve anything, he was wrong. They have sex, but they still avoid all the serious conversations. It’s just like it was at the end of their relationship. The sex was always easy. The rest of it was the hard stuff.

Everything else has changed though, and that brings its own set of problems. Before, they had to keep every aspect of their relationship hidden. Now, they’re being pushed to appear together in public. To go on all these staged dates, to make a show of things, making the fans think they’re dating, whilst everyone they’re close to thinks it’s all a show. The truth is somewhere in between, and Harry doesn’t know what they’re doing. All her wants to do is hide away, hole up in his house with Louis for a week or a month or a year, or however long it takes to figure things out. But of course, that’s not possible.

It’s a mess but being in a mess with Louis is so much better than being in a mess without him. Harry is desperate not to fuck things up.

A few weeks later, Zayn lands in London.

They all meet in a bland, anonymous conference room in management headquarters. Harry sits next to Louis, opposite Liam and Niall. He can’t look at any of them. He’s scared if he looks at Louis, everyone will somehow know what they’ve been doing. Liam and Niall would feel lied to if they had any idea what was going on. And if he looks at them, he’s scared his feelings will be written all over his face. So, Harry stares at the floor and mumbles answers to anything anyone asks him.

Zayn comes in last. He’s dressed all in black, and the clothes look too big on his skinny frame. He doesn’t look well. There are dark shadows under his eyes and his hair’s a mess. He slips into a seat at the end of the table without looking at anyone. Harry can tell that this is going to be a disaster. Zayn shouldn’t be here. Not because of the past, but because he’s clearly not in a good place. He’s being pushed back into a situation that did nothing but make him miserable. Surely the others can see that too?

Harry also knows that if he says anything, everyone will make out like it’s something personal. Louis and Liam want this, and so they’ll just shout everyone else down, like they’ve always done. He draws his knees up to his chest and fiddles with the cuff of his shirt. He wasn’t looking forward to this, and all he wants is for it to be over with the minimum of damage.

Something nudges his chair. His eyes flick up. Louis is frowning at him, “You alright mate?”

“Yeah, sure.” Harry lies.

Louis is still frowning, but he doesn’t push it. Instead, he looks over at Zayn, “You alright? You look shattered, love.”

Even that feels like a dagger in Harry’s heart. He gets mate, whilst Zayn gets love. And he knows Louis is being careful too, but it still hurts.

“Jet lag, innit.” Says Zayn.

“The tour,” Says Liam, “We should talk about the tour.” He’s looking at Harry as he says it.

Harry says nothing and continues staring at the floor.

“You know the fans will love it if Zayn is there.” He continues, “And doing most of our old songs without Zayn will be rubbish. And they’re the real fan favourites and stuff.”

Harry risks a glance up. Liam is staring at him intently. Harry looks away.

“I get that there’s a history, but if you can be cool with Louis, I don’t see why you can’t be cool with Zayn.” Says Liam, continuing to pout.

“It’s not that.” Says Harry, finally, “I just… you all clearly talked about this without me.”

Louis and Liam exchange guilty looks.

“Haz.” Louis is biting his lip. He doesn’t look happy, “It wasn’t like that.”

Harry looks over at Niall. Niall squirms a bit and finally says, “Maybe it was a bit like that. We shouldn’t have done that.”

Harry rubs his hand over his forehead. He’s getting a headache and he can’t shake the feeling that this is heading for disaster.

“It’s whatever.” He says, finally, “We can do it. The concert. The five of us. But things have to change.”

“How so?” Asks Liam.

“You have to stop doing stuff behind my back. People need to stop lying to me.” Harry says.

Just for a second, Liam and Louis share a look. Harry isn’t sure what that means.

“Yeah,” Says Louis, “Yeah of course. Everything out in the open from now on.”

“Good.” Says Harry, with a nod.

Why doesn’t he feel any better?

“Maybe…” Zayn looks at Harry uncertainly, “Maybe we should talk. Just the two of us. Clear the air, you know?”

Harry nods again. It’s a little bit shaky.

“Cool.” Says Liam, “Well, glad that’s sorted. Shall we get everyone else in and talk dates?”

After the meeting, Louis and Harry get in separate cars. Both of them are going back to Louis’ place, but they agreed that they don’t want to tell the others about what’s going on yet.

When Harry arrives, Louis lets him in, wraps an arm around his waist and pulls him into a kiss.

“Lou,” Says Harry.

Louis is grinding up against him, “What?”

“We need to talk.” Harry says.

“Now?” Asks Louis, “I’m dying here. Been looking at you all morning, you looking all fuckable. Like torture, it was.”

He pushes his hips up against Harry’s to drive the point home.

“Yes, now.” Says Harry, pulling back a little, “We should tell the others. I’ve just gone on about there being no secrets. How am I supposed to clear the air with Zayn if I’m lying to him about you?”

“Haz,” Whines Louis, “We’re just figuring this out ourselves. We agreed it’s better to keep it private for now.”

“But it’s not private, is it?” Asks Harry, “We’re about to come out. Next week. It’ll be splashed across all the red tops. And everyone else in the band will think it’s fake.”

“D’you wanna stop?” Louis asks, pulling away.

That’s the last thing Harry wants. He crosses the distance between them, and takes Louis’ hands, “Of course I don’t wanna stop. I just wanna stop lying to people.”

“Well, next week is the first step in that.” Louis says, “We’re being honest with the fans then, aren’t we?”

“You know what I mean.” Harry says.

Louis kisses him, “We’ll tell the band. We’ll tell the band. Whenever you want Harry, whatever you want, just please… I’m dying here.”

Harry can’t resist. He’s never been able to resist. He kisses back, his teeth closing around Louis’ bottom lip. He bites down, just a little too hard. Louis takes it like a challenge. He’s kissing more roughly now, his fingers pulling at the buttons of Harry’s shirt. When he gets it undone, his sharp nails run over Harry’s chest. Harry flinches a little but doesn’t pull away.

“C’mon,” Rasps Louis, “Let’s go to bed.”

He’s holding Harry’s hand tightly, tugging him insistently. Harry follows. Louis pulls him to the bed, pulls him down, wrapping his fingers in Harry’s curls, tugging his head down. Harry moans, and kisses Louis obediently. Louis tugs harder, and Harry pulls against it, desperate to keep kissing Louis. Louis yanks on his hair, snaps his head back and kisses down Harry’s throat, nipping just a bit when he gets to the collar bones. Harry squeals and twists, his hips grinding against Louis.

“Ugh,” Louis whines, “You’re so fucking fuckable, want you so much.”

“I want you too.” Says Harry, “So bad.”

“You wouldn’t even look at me earlier,” Louis pouts, “God you look so hot, I could eat you up.”

“You could eat me out,” Harry teases.

“Nah,” Says Louis, pushing Harry roughly onto his back, “I wanna ride your big hard cock, feel you cum inside me.”

Harry gasps, his hips bucking up against Louis.

“But first,” Says Louis, his voice husky, “I’m gonna make you beg for it.”

“Lou,” Whines Harry.

Louis has found a scarf or something from somewhere, a strip of material he uses to tie Harry’s hands together and to the bedframe. Harry tugs, experimentally, and looks up at Louis, licking his lips.

Louis is working at his trousers, pulling them off. Harry lifts his hips up to help. Louis leans down, kissing up and down his thighs, teasing with his tongue and sucking little marks into Harry’s skin.

“So fucking soft,” Louis whispers.

“Lou,” Harry whimpers again. He’s hard, almost painfully so, his dick straining against his boxers.

Louis reaches up, pulling at Harry’s underwear. His nails graze Harry’s skin as he pulls it off, making Harry squirm.

“Lou,” Whines Harry again.

Louis rubs a thumb over the head of Harry’s cock, picking up a bead of precum. He sucks it off his thumb and grins.

“I’m gonna get naked.” Says Louis, “Gonna open myself up.”

Harry whimpers. He tugs his hands again. “I wanna touch you.”

“Well, we can’t always have what we want, Harrold.” Says Louis, smirking as he pulls of his t-shirt, “This morning, for example, I wanted to bend you over that desk.”

“Shoulda got their earlier,” Harry teases him.

“I’d’ve done it in front of everyone.” Louis says.

It’s a lie, but it still sends shivers down Harry’s spine.

“We should do that one day,” Says Louis, “Fuck in an office, let everyone walk in on us.”

Harry laughs.

Louis is naked now, and he climbs back onto the bed, straddling Harry. He leans down and kisses him. Harry kisses back, hungry and insistent, kisses down Louis’ neck, wherever he can reach. He pushes his body up against Louis. Louis is kissing down Harry’s body now, teasing his nipples, nibbling down Harry’s stomach, licking his hips. Harry is moaning and writhing under him. Louis is close to his cock now, licking around the base of it, his tongue trailing over Harry’s balls.

“Please,” Moans Harry.

“Gonna have to wait,” Says Louis, “Like a good little slut.”

Harry moans, deep in his throat.

Louis reaches over him for some lube. He squeezes it all over his fingers until they’re dripping with it and reaches behind himself. He smirks and turns, so Harry can watch him push two fingers straight in. He rubs them around, and then gets more lube, rubbing it inside himself until his arse is dripping. Then he’s plunging two fingers in deep and exploring, circling them, stretching himself out. He pushes in a third, moaning.

Then, he turns back to face Harry, a smirk on his face, “You’re so hard for me.”

“Mmhmm.” Harry moans.

“You want this.” Louis tells him.

“I do.” Harry confirms, “Please Lou, I want it so much, please, I wanna feel you tight around me, I want my big, hard cock up inside you, fucking you, making you feel good. I want your tight little arse, Lou, please, goddamnit, I want it so badly, please, god, Lou, please babe, please.”

“Well,” Smirks Louis, “As you asked so nicely.”

He slides his arse down onto Harry’s cock.

Harry lets out some kind of strangled noise, his hips shifting up, just slightly.

“Ah, uh, just hold on a sec.” Louis says.

He’s rushed his prep, and Harry can see the discomfort on his face.

“Lou,” He says.

“It’s alright.” Insists Louis, “Just give me a sec. Just stay still.”

They stay still for a few moments, quivering. It’s taking all of Harry’s strength not to thrust up.

Torturously slowly, Louis starts to move. At first, it’s just a little, gently, tentatively up and down. Harry groans as he holds himself still.

“Feels so good.” He says.

Louis’ hands are pressed on his hips, “Your cock feels so good inside me.”

“You’re so tight.” Harry says.

Louis moans, softly and starts to move a bit faster, “Mmm, yeah. That’s it, you can move, just… gently, yeah?”

Harry nods, and pushes his hips up, just a little. He feels the lack of resistance and starts to move faster. Louis’ face is showing nothing but pleasure, so Harry starts to go faster and deeper. Louis’ arse feels amazing around him, tight and slick with lube.

Louis leans down, wrapping his arms around Harry’s shoulders, “Yeah that’s it, go on, fuck me, yeah.”

Harry starts to fuck Louis faster, sliding in and out faster and faster. They’re both moaning now, sweaty bodies pressed together. Louis is riding him, his arse bouncing up and down on Harry’s cock. It feels so good. The world has narrowed down to just the two of them. There’s nothing else, just Louis and Harry, joined together.

Louis is moaning Harry’s name over and over. He’s wrapped one hand around his cock now, “Oh god Harry, feels so good.”

“Shit, shit, Louis,” Harry moans. His whole body tenses up, and then relaxes as he climaxes.

Louis is still rubbing his own cock, and Harry lies there, blissed out, watching Louis, as he pushes himself to orgasm.

“Harry,” He whines, as he spills his cum over Harry in messy stripes. He sags down against him, “Shit.”

“Don’t fall asleep,” Says Harry, “Untie me first, yeah?”

Louis fumbles Harry’s hands free, and they collapse together, a sweaty mess.

Later, they’re both lying naked on Louis’ bed. Louis is curled up against Harry’s side, his fingers tracing the tattoos on Harry’s chest.

“What are we gonna tell the lads?” Asks Louis, “I mean… what are we calling this?”

Fuck. Harry hadn’t been expecting that. He feels like his stomach has fallen through his feet.

“Lou,” He says, slowly, carefully, “You know, for me, it’s always been you.”

“Yeah.” Says Louis, “Me too, love.”

“I… I want this to work.” Harry says, “I don’t want to go back to not seeing each other after the show.”

“Course not.” Says Louis, “As if I’d let you go again.”

“So, are we… dating?” Asks Harry, carefully, “I mean, I’m not seeing anyone else. Are you?”

“No.” Says Louis.

There’s a pause. The silence stretches between them.

“I… do you see a future in this, Harry?”

Louis is the only future Harry’s ever been able to see. The last few years, he’s just been drifting. He’s never been able to picture forever with anyone else.

“I… yeah.” He says, “I… I wanna make this work.”

“Me too.”

The kiss that follows is soft and gentle. Harry’s heart feels like it might burst out of his chest.

The next morning, Harry wakes up, at Louis’ flat. Apart from that night in the hotel, it’s the first night they’ve spent together. Harry’s disappointed to realise that Louis is already up. Harry can hear the shower going. He’d hoped they could spend a lazy morning in bed together, maybe fuck some more, maybe talk more about the future together. But it seems like Louis has other plans.

He fumbles for his phone. There aren’t many notifications, just an email from management. It’s too early to open it, really, but Harry does anyway, planning to just skim over it. It’s about Harry and Louis’ big coming out, the schedule for their interviews, the different stuff that’s going to be released, and when. Harry knows all of this, so he flicks down through it quickly.

He realises the email’s the last one in a long chain, the ones before are mostly between Louis and management, organising appearances and all of that. Something makes Harry keep scrolling down. The dates on the emails get earlier and earlier, and it seems like Louis was doing a lot of planning, even in the early days. Harry feels weird. Something isn’t right here. Louis has been emailing management suggestions about the two of them long before Harry ever heard anything about their plans. He keeps scrolling down until he reaches the first email in the chain.

It’s from Louis, to management.

_Hey Guys_

_So this is a bit of an off the wall idea, but I’ve been discussing it with Liam. We all know there are certain areas of the fanbase that have been more active than others during the hiatus. And we all know there is still a lot of speculation about Harry and me._

_When we’re building hype about the concerts, we thought it would be good to get those guys on board- you know they are the ones who will go mad buying tickets and merch, especially if they think they’re going to get to see me and Harry kiss on stage._

_So here’s the idea, a promo relationship between me and Harry. What do you think?_

_All the best_

_Louis._

Harry feels sick.

The whole thing was Louis’ idea, right from the start? And he’d just planned it to sell concert tickets and merch? Nothing in the email suggests he gives a fuck about Harry’s feelings.

So, what’s with the sex? Is it just to keep Harry on side? Is it just because Harry is convenient?

Is none of this real?

The shower turns off. Harry needs more time to think. He quickly flicks off the email and jumps up, hunting around for some clothes.

Louis comes out, naked except for a towel and a smirk. Harry can’t look at him.

“Hey, sorry, something’s come up.” Harry lies, “I gotta go. I’m sorry.”

Louis frowns, “But we were gonna spend the day together. I was…”

“Sorry, sorry.” Harry cuts him off. He buttons up his shirt and pushes open the bedroom door.

Louis follows, “What is it? Is it your sister? Your mum?”

“Nah, nothing like that.” Harry says, “Just a thing I forgot about.”

“Harry,” Louis closes the space between them, “You’re being weird. What’s wrong?”

Harry pulls on his boots and shrugs into his jacket. Louis grabs his wrist.

“Harry, are you ok?” Louis says, “Tell me what’s going on. I can help.”

Harry yanks his wrist free, “You can’t help!”

“What?” Louis looks shocked, but Harry doesn’t care.

“It’s you.” He snaps, “The problem is you.”

Louis’ face has fallen, and it tugs at Harry’s heart just a little, but he’s got to stay strong.

He opens up the email on his phone, “We said no more lies, but you were lying to me this whole time. That’s what’s wrong, Louis.”

“Harry, I can explain,” Says Louis, desperately.

“Save it.” Snarls Harry, “I’m done. Fuck you, Louis.”

He pushes out the door. Louis, still naked, can’t follow.

Harry runs down the stairs, fighting back tears. There’s no car waiting for him, but it’s London. He’ll find a taxi, or something. He can’t stay in the building for another second. It feels like his heart’s been ripped out of him, all over again.

He’d been an idiot to trust Louis, after everything.

Once upon a time, he reckons Louis really did love him. Or like him, at least. It’s hard to tell. Back when they’d been kids on the X-factor, Louis had fancied him, at least. It had been fun back then. Light and easy and secret, just theirs.

And then the fans had figured stuff out, and Louis had wanted them to come out. He’d said how big they’d be, being out. He’d almost talked the rest of the band and management into it. It’d been Harry who hadn’t been sure. He’d been so young, not even eighteen, and the memories of the whispers at school still followed him. He hadn’t been brave enough to expose himself to the kind of hate that would have come their way.

After that, things had started to change between him and Louis. Part of it had been the pressure of keeping their relationship secret. Having to pretend that Harry had moved out. Having to hide things on tour. Louis had gone along with it all, but he’d never liked it. The cracks had started to show. When Harry had been talking about a future, Louis had been asking how they could even have a future if Harry wasn’t prepared to be out. They’d started to argue.

Harry had realised that the only way to fix things would be to come out. He’d loved Louis so much. He would have done anything for him by then. That was just about the time that they were starting to crack America. Harry was supposedly dating Taylor Swift. Management pushed back on the idea a lot more than they had in the early days. Now that the band was a global phenomenon, they saw having two openly gay members as too much of a risk.

Harry had expected Louis to be onside, ready to push against them, but something had got to him. He’d lost confidence. Maybe he’d just started to love the fame, love being part of the biggest boyband in the world. Either way, Louis listened to management, and agreed with them that it wasn’t the right time. This time, it had been Louis who’d persuaded Harry to wait.

That had been Harry’s last chance to fix things. Louis got closer to Zayn and Liam. Harry had his own friends. They started spending less time together, when they were on tour, Louis was always busy. When they were at home, Harry started finding excuses to go out, to be somewhere else. They didn’t talk about it, and perhaps part of it had been the fact they were so exhausted, but they started to grow apart.

Most people might say that was inevitable, with someone you’d started dated when you were sixteen, with someone who had been your first everything. But not Harry, not about Louis. Louis had been all Harry had ever known, but he knew that they fit. On some deep level, Harry’s soul wanted to be with Louis. He couldn’t imagine a life without him. Even afterwards, not having Louis in his life had felt so wrong, impossible, even.

At that stage, there had still been good times. Louis was always the one that Harry could run to, when it all got too much. Louis had kept him going when things got hard, during those long, knackering tours. On the days when it felt like nothing was going right, Louis had been the one to get him to crack a smile. And perhaps that had been part of the problem. Harry had been leaning on Louis too often and never returning the favour. Harry had needed so much from Louis and he hadn’t given enough in return.

Maybe that had been why, that weekend when he’d gone away with Zayn, that Louis had cheated.

It didn’t matter why. Not really. It had broken Harry’s heart, and there had been nothing Louis could do to fix the situation. Eventually, he stopped trying. They didn’t talk. They avoided each other. Zayn left the band, but it was too late for that to change anything, and not long after, they’d gone on hiatus.

They hadn’t spoken at all, for years.

Even before the reunion, it had just been a few texts and DMs, here and there.

He’d been stupid to think that Louis wasn’t over it. That he hadn’t moved on.

Harry stumbles into his house, barely aware of how he’s got there. He collapses on the sofa, finally free to cry his eyes out. It’s so stupid, but he feels like his heart has broken all over again.

He’s in such a mess he forgets that he was supposed to meet Zayn this afternoon, until his doorbell rings.

Harry’s all teary eyes and still in last night’s clothes, but he answers the door anyway.

“I know now’s probably not a good time.” Says Zayn, looking him up and down, “Louis told me what happened this morning.”

“So why are you here?” Harry’s got no energy to try to be nice right now.

“Figured someone should check you were ok.” Says Zayn, with a shrug.

“I’m not.” Says Harry. He’s got no energy to pretend either.

“Yeah.” Says Zayn, “I can see that. C’mon, let me in. You shouldn’t be on your own.”

Harry stands aside.

“I know I’m the last person you want to see.” Zayn says.

“Not the last.” Says Harry.

“Yeah, alright.” He agrees.

They walk through the house without speaking much.

Eventually, in the kitchen, Zayn says, “Make you a cup of tea? Have you eaten?”

“I don’t wanna eat,” Says Harry, “But I’ll have a cup of tea.”

“So, I’ve heard Louis’ side of things.” Says Zayn, “But why don’t you tell me yours?”

Harry starts to cry again. He can’t help it. It’s a little while before he can speak. Zayn doesn’t look at him, just busies himself making the cup of tea.

“He’s the only person I’ve ever loved. The only person I’ve ever even been able to imagine a future with.” Harry says, eventually, “But all I am to him is ticket sales.”

“Shit.” Says Zayn.

He pushes the cup of tea towards Harry.

Now he’s talking, it all spills out of Harry, “You know we’ve been fucking, right? For like two weeks.”

Zayn nods.

“Last night, we were talking about what this was.” Harry says, “He told me it was something real. That we could tell you guys. That we could try again.”

Harry sips his tea. It’s still too hot and it burns his tongue.

“But it was all a lie.” Harry says, “This was all just fake, and he was the one that set it up.”

Zayn nods again, “That’s shit.”

“Do you think he ever loved me?” Harry sobs.

“Shit, mate, he used to think the sun shone out of your arse.” Zayn says, “He used to look at you like you were his whole world. I remember on our first tour how he was telling me about the big house in the country you guys were going to retire to one day. The kids you were going to adopt. All of it.”

Harry looks away. He doesn’t want to hear about that right now. He leads the way into the lounge and collapses on his sofa. There’s a blanket there, and he curls up under it. Zayn sits next to him, and somehow, that’s alright.

“When did things go wrong?” Harry asks, burrowing deeper under the blanket.

“I dunno, man.” Says Zayn, “We were all under a lot of pressure. You guys especially, to pretend everything wasn’t real. We were all exhausted.”

Harry nods.

“He thought you’d stopped loving him.” Zayn said, “Before… you know...”

Harry bites his lip, “I never…”

“I know.” Says Zayn, “But he stopped being sure of you. He was scared, man, so scared. He didn’t know what he’d do without you.”

Harry’s lip is trembling, and another tear slips down his cheek.

“Sometimes, when people feel shit, they do self-destructive stuff. They make the thing they fear the most happen.” Zayn continues.

Harry nods.

“He wouldn’t talk about it, even now.” Harry says, “I guess I should have realised it wasn’t real.”

Zayn pauses, “I think it’s more complicated than that.”

“Don’t.” Says Harry, “I can’t cope with it, anymore. I just need it to be over. Really over. I’ll do these fucking concerts, and then…”

“Yeah.” Says Zayn, “Ok.”

They sit in silence for a little bit.

“Is there someone I can call to be with you?” Asks Zayn.

Harry shakes his head. There’s plenty of people he can call for a night out, or when things are going well. He’s got friends. It’s just, there isn’t really anyone who’s ever seen him like this. There isn’t anyone he feels he can be vulnerable with. His sister, maybe, but she’ll be at work, and Harry doesn’t want to bother her.

“It’s alright.” Says Harry, “I’ll be alright.”

Zayn shakes his head, “You shouldn’t be alone right now.”

Harry feels pathetically grateful for that.

“There’s this new anime I’ve been watching,” Zayn continues, “I reckon you’ll like it.”

After a few hours of chilling together on the sofa, Zayn looks over at Harry, “You need to talk to him, you know?”

Harry pouts.

“I’m serious.” Says Zayn, “I can see you’re hurt. I can see why you wouldn’t want to trust him. But I think you need to hear him out before you make any decisions.”

“I love him.” Says Harry, knowing how pathetic he sounds, “And he fucked me over all over again.”

Zayn runs a hand through Harry’s tangled hair, “I get that. But what are you going to do instead? Run away?”

That isn’t an option, Harry realises. He’s got commitments. He’s signed up to this stupid tour, and all the promo bollocks that goes with that. He can’t just leave.

“Why don’t I get him to come over here tomorrow?” Suggests Zayn, “Just… just hear him out.”

“There’s nothing he could say that will fix this.” Says Harry, firmly.

“Alright.” Says Zayn, “But you’re gonna have to see him again at some point.” 

Harry draws his knees up to his chest, “I hate this.”

Zayn nods, “I get that. And I get why you won’t talk to Louis about it. But I really think…”

Harry looks at Zayn curiously, “What aren’t you telling me?”

Zayn shrugs, “Not my place to say.”

“Just tell me.” Harry insists, “Please?”

Zayn is silent for a while, fiddling with the cuffs of his jumper.

“I didn’t tell you this.” He says, finally.

“Ok.” Says Harry.

“He never stopped loving you, yeah?” Says Zayn, “I know he cheated, but that was… he thought he was losing you. He wanted to make you jealous. And yeah, it’s a bloody stupid thing to do, but…”

“Yeah,” Harry’s head jerks.

“Even when he walked away…” Zayn says, “He was still hoping you would chase him. That’s why he was so pissed off with me for a long time. Because I fucked things for him and you.”

“I’m not gonna feel sorry for him.” Says Harry. He looks down at his empty mug, “D’you want another cuppa?”

“Go on then.” Says Zayn.

Harry wanders into the kitchen and makes them both another cup of tea. He needs some space to process this. He’d always assumed that Louis had fallen out of love with him. He’d assumed that was why he’d looked for someone else, why he’d eventually left. Harry’s willing to consider the possibility that Zayn doesn’t know what the fuck he’s talking about, but some small, traitorous part of his heart can’t help but hope.

Harry heads back with his two cups of tea. He sits, curled up on himself, hands clutching his favourite mug.

“So, that was then.” Says Zayn.

Harry nods.

“He never stopped loving you.” Continues Zayn, “Honestly. When me and him got back in touch, it was still all, Harry this, Harry that.”

Well, that’s flattering, at least. Zayn’s wrong about the love part, though. Harry’s sure Louis doesn’t love him anymore, even if he once did.

“He told me, this one time, you texted him.” Zayn says, “About his songs. About how they’re all about you.”

“I wanted to talk to him about it.” Harry replies. His eyes feel puffy and he’s got a headache from spending the whole day crying, but his heart is fluttering in his chest.

“He was scared.” Zayn explains, “He was so convinced you were over him. Dunno why, but he was.”

Harry nods, awkwardly, “I wasn’t.”

“Yeah.” Says Zayn, “I can see that.”

Harry chews on his lip.

“This thing… the whole fake dating thing,” Zayn sighs, “I did not tell you this.”

Harry nods, leaning forward.

“It was all a big plan to win you back.” Zayn explains, “It was never about merch, or whatever. It was… Louis thought he could… I don’t know… make you fall for him all over again. Show you that he’d grown up, that he’d changed.”

Harry chews his lip. He doesn’t trust Zayn, not fully, even though Zayn’s been nicer than Harry had any right to expect. He doesn’t trust Louis, either. Maybe it’s stupid to hold onto the hope that they aren’t just using him. But, god, Harry wants to believe Zayn. He wants that so very badly. And would Zayn really lie about this? Even to get the band back together? Zayn can be a dick sometimes, but he’s never been cold and calculated.

Are they playing Harry for a fool?

“Who else knows?” Harry asks.

“Liam.” Says Zayn, “I don’t know if Louis’ other mates know. Or his sisters. Liam thought it was a stupid idea, for the record.”

“He could’ve just said something.” Points out Harry.

“It’s Louis.” Says Zayn, “You know how proud he is. How afraid of rejection he is. He won’t ever put himself out there, make himself that vulnerable.”

That does sound like Louis.

“You can ask Liam, if you don’t believe me.” Zayn continues.

Harry considers the idea. He doesn’t talk to Liam much anymore, but Harry does trust him. Liam’s a bit like an overgrown puppy. He’s not got it in him to lie about something like this. Even now, Harry thinks Liam wishes they could just be friends again and get on, like the early days. Louis and Liam are close. Louis wouldn’t lie to Liam about his intentions.

Finally, Harry pulls out his phone and dials Liam’s number. It rings quite a few times. Harry thinks it’s going to go to answer phone.

Then, Liam picks up, “Harry? Are you alright?”

“Been better.” Harry says, honestly.

“Yeah, Louis told me you guys had a fight… uh… Do you need anything?” Liam asks.

There’s some kind of whispering in the background.

Harry can’t work out what he wants to say.

“Did… Zayn said he was going to go over. I wasn’t sure… uh…” Liam trails off.

“Yeah. He’s here.” Says Harry, “Don’t worry, I didn’t shoot the messenger.”

“That’s good.” Says Liam, “Um, so, like, obviously I’m good to talk or whatever, but was there a reason you called?”

There’s more whispering in the background.

“Are you with people?” Asks Harry, “I can call back.”

“It’s alright, just hold on a sec.” There’s a pause, then Harry hears a distant, “Shut up.”

“Honestly, it’s fine.” Says Harry, “I’ll call back.”

“No, no.” Says Liam, “It’s alright. Just, like, no offense, but I didn’t think I’d be someone you’d want to talk to right now?”

“Zayn told me something.” Says Harry, carefully, “He said, all of this, the faking the relationship stuff, it was, um, Louis’ plan to, like, win me back, or some shit.”

“Uhhh.” Liam clearly doesn’t know how to answer.

“I know he swore you to secrecy, or whatever.” Says Harry, with a roll of his eyes, “But… like… I’m very close to just walking away, so honestly, if you know anything, now is the time to say.”

“Hold on.” Says Liam.

There’s a lot of muffled talking at the other end of the phone line. Harry’s growing increasingly impatient and on edge. Maybe this was a bad idea. Liam’s loyalty is to Louis, will always be to Louis.

“Are you with him?” He asks.

“Uh…” Liam’s always been a crap liar, “He’s really upset, Harry. He never meant to hurt you.”

“Went about it a funny way, then.” Harry snaps.

“I told him it was a bad idea,” Whines Liam, “But yeah, ok… he thought… he thought he had to win you back. All these grand romantic gestures or some shit. I don’t know…”

Harry doesn’t know what to say to that.

“Harry,” Says Liam, gently, “I think you should talk to him. I understand if you don’t want to but honestly… I can see how this might look to you but… it’s not what you think, I promise.”

“Ok.” Says Harry, “Ok. Go on. Give him the phone.”

He’s too tired to argue against it anymore.

“Ok.” Says Liam.

There’s a long pause, and more muffled talking.

Harry’s second guessing himself right now. He thinks he might be sick. He glances over at Zayn. Zayn reaches over and gives his hand a squeeze.

“Haz,” Hearing Louis’ voice is a shock to Harry.

He doesn’t know what to say.

“Are you still there? Can I just… please?” Louis’ voice sounds rough. Like maybe he’s been upset too. Like maybe he’s been crying. Like maybe this does mean something to him, after all.

“Go on then.” Harry’s voice is as hard and cold as he can make it, “Explain yourself.”

“I’m really sorry.” Louis’ voice sounds like it might break, and in any other circumstance, that would tear Harry’s heart to shreds.

Harry says nothing. He doesn’t trust himself.

“It was stupid, I know now it was stupid, I don’t know how I could think you wouldn’t find out.” Louis’ words are tumbling out of him, he’s tripping over them, like he only does when he’s really nervous, “It was never about merch or sales or whatever though, I promise, I promise. I just… I didn’t know… I couldn’t bare…”- Louis makes a sound that might be a choked off sob- “I couldn’t cope with the idea of seeing you all the time and not… seeing you all the time and not being able to touch you or spend proper time with you or anything or… do you know what I’m talking about? It woulda been like torture, it woulda been a proper head fuck and I couldn’t do it.”

Harry’s silent for a long time. It’s a long time since Louis has been this vulnerable with him. But he’s not sure he can just forgive Louis and act like none of this has happened.

“Harry, say something, please?” Louis begs. 

“I don’t know what to say.” Harry says. His voice is soft and slow. He looks over at Zayn.

Zayn shrugs, “Gonna go for a smoke.”

Well, that’s helpful. Harry gives him a little nod.

“I thought… This is gonna sound stupid. Might actually be the stupidest thing I’ve ever said.” Louis says, “I missed you. A lot. And when I was missing you, sometimes, I’d read fanfiction and shit.”- Louis chokes back what might be a hysterical giggle- “And like, think about, I don’t know, all the ways I could win you back, or something and fuck, I know it’s stupid.”

It’s not stupid, Harry thinks, it’s almost sweet. And he knows the emotion in Louis’ voice is real.

“Why couldn’t you just be honest with me?” Harry asks.

“What? Tell you I was still in love with you?” Louis asks.

“Well, yeah.” Says Harry.

“What would you have said?” Louis asks.

“I don’t know.” Admits Harry, “I tried though. When I texted you that time?”

“Yeah.” Says Louis, “Yeah I know. Fuck, I know I’ve fucked this all up. I though it would be like, romantic, but I fucked it up instead.”

“Why don’t you say it now?” Says Harry.

“That I’m still in love with you? Fuck, Harry, Yeah, I never got over you. I always loved you. Didn’t always show it the best, but yeah, I love you, yeah, all my fucking songs are about you. I… yeah.” Louis trails off, “Happy now?”

“For fucks sake, Louis.” Snaps Harry, “I’m not doing this to humiliate you. I just… I needed to hear you say it.”

“Well, I’ve said it.” Louis says, “Now you know.”

“Louis,” Says Harry, the pain clear in his voice.

Zayn walks back in and mouths, “You ok?”

Harry looks away.

“I know that it’s pathetic.” Louis is rambling on, “I know you don’t feel the same, you could never forgive me, I know this is fucked…”

“Louis,” Says Harry, more firmly, “Let me speak.”

To Harry’s surprise, Louis shuts up.

“Louis, you’re wrong.” Says Harry, “Why do you think I was so hurt? This isn’t me like… tugging on your heartstrings or whatever. I… I love you too. I never got over it, either. I just… I couldn’t trust you enough to say it… I thought you were over me. I thought I’d just get hurt again.”

Louis is still silent, but Harry presses on, “When we kissed, I was so happy. When we talked about trying again last night, I was so, so happy. And that’s why I reacted so badly to the emails. I thought… I thought you didn’t care.”

“Yeah, well.” Says Louis. He still sounds a bit like he might cry.

“Do you… do you want to come over?” Asks Harry, “Liam too. Maybe, let’s get Niall here too. Let’s… Let’s all get drunk and high and be totally honest with each other. I think…I think that might help.”

“Will you… will you still let me kiss you?” Asks Louis.

“Yeah.” Says Harry, “You can sleep in my bed, too.”

And that apparently breaks some kind of dam inside Louis, because suddenly he’s sobbing down the phone and Harry doesn’t know what to do.

Eventually, Liam takes the phone back, “Hey, um, I’ll sort him out, and then I guess we’ll come over.”

When they arrive, Louis looks a mess. Harry is aware he probably doesn’t look much better. Liam and Zayn quickly disappear into the kitchen, and Louis shuffles his way across the lounge.

“You can sit down.” Harry says.

Louis perches awkwardly on the coffee table.

“Next to me.” Harry suggests.

Louis does, sitting awkwardly at the far end of the sofa.

“Lewwwiisss.” Harry rolls his eyes and opens up his arms. Louis practically leaps on top of him, wrapping his arms around Harry, pressing his face into Harry’s neck, smelling him, clambering over him, until they’re pressed as closely together as it’s humanly possible to be.

Harry just holds Louis, burying his head in his shoulder. Despite everything, it feels like home, and Harry feels safer and more together than he has all day.

He knows there’s a lot they still need to say to each other, a lot still to talk about and get out in the open. He knows that won’t be easy. Even so, it feels like they’ve crossed an important bridge today. Everything feels more real, more tangible. They both know what the other one feels, and they both want to make this work. That’s enough for right now.

Louis shifts himself slightly, so he’s more comfortable on Harry’s lap, his head still buried in the crook of Harry’s neck. Harry thinks he might be crying.

“Hey, love, it’s ok.”

“It’s not. I hurt you all over again, Haz. I nearly fucked up…” Louis whispers.

Harry presses a soft kiss onto the top of his head, “Do you promise that you’ll always be honest with me from now on? No matter how hard it gets? No matter how vulnerable you feel?”

Louis nods, “I promise. No matter what.”

“Then we’ll figure it out.” Promises Harry, “I promise you haven’t fucked it up.”

Louis nods again, “I’ve lost so much, Harry.”

“I know, sweetheart, I know.” Says Harry.

“Sometimes, I feel like I’m not worth loving.” Louis says, softly.

Harry kisses the top of his head, “You’re amazing. I love you.”

“It’s hard, to put myself out there, when I’m scared that you’re just going to say that you hate me.” Says Louis.

“I know.” Says Harry, stroking a hand down Louis’ back, “But I’m not ever going to hate you. You need to stop making all these elaborate plans, and just trust me.”

Louis nods into Harry’s chest, “I promise. I promise I’ll make it up to you. I don’t know how, but I will.”

“You’ve got the rest of our lives.” Says Harry, “You’ll figure something out.”

“Do you mean that?” Louis sits up, suddenly, staring into Harry’s eyes.

“If that’s what you want.” Says Harry.

Louis leans forward and kisses Harry. It’s hard and messy and full of want and difficult emotions. Harry wraps his arms around Louis, pulling him closer, kissing him harder. They’re pulling at each other’s hair and each other’s clothes.

Suddenly, there’s an interruption, “Oi, oi, see you lads have made up, then?”

Harry pulls away from Louis, just for a second, to see Niall standing at the far end of the room.

“Um…” He stutters.

Niall just laughs and makes his way to wherever Liam and Zayn are hiding, “Let us know when you’re fit for company.”

Harry laughs into Louis’ shoulder.

Louis kisses him again, soft and tender this time.

Harry knows that this isn’t the end. There’s still a lot that they’re going to have to work through. Not just his own insecurity and learning to trust Louis again. Harry’s going to have to work on making Louis feel loved and wanted and safe, too. And their lives are never simple. Harry’s got no doubt the universe has some bumps in the road to throw at them too.

But that’s ok. Because this isn’t the end. It’s just the beginning.

And as he takes Louis’ hand and leads him out into the back garden to find their friends and bandmates drinking in the autumn sun, Harry knows he’s happier than he’s been in years. He hasn’t just got the love of his life back. He’s got his band back too.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, so for those of you who want to know exactly what you're getting into- the twist is Louis is Genre Savvy and has planned the whole fake dating thing as part of an elaborate plan to win Harry back. Harry finds out and there is a bit of a misunderstanding and our boys are a bit sad for a while- but never fear, they get it together in the end. 
> 
> Uh, that's about it I think. If this fic for some reason has inspired you to want to find me on Tumblr, I can be found at https://www.tumblr.com/blog/gerardwayisbetterthanyourfaves (Yeah I got very excited about mcr coming back). I do post a bit of Louis/Larry content occasionally.


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